


To Save You

by mandidandi



Category: The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds
Genre: Angst, Canon Continuation, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-04-14 21:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 37,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14144706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandidandi/pseuds/mandidandi
Summary: He needed her resolve, she needed his smile. They completed one another, and together—they'd find the wisdom and courage to start all over.[A canon continuation of "A Link Between Worlds", centering around Hilda, Ravio, and their relationship. Completed!]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Welcome to my first-ever Zelda fic. Thank you so much for your interest!
> 
> While I'm sure y'all already know the drill, I just wanna make a quick note before we get started. This story, of course, contains major spoilers for the ending of, "A Link Between Worlds". If you haven't played/beaten it yet, I strongly encourage you to do so! It recently became a Nintendo Select, so you can pick it up for only $20 now. (Wink wink just sayin'.)
> 
> I... feel a little emotional, in posting this—as I actually started this story nearly five years ago. It's taken some time, but I've finally done enough revision to feel confident in reposting it to AO3. Working on this story really meant a lot to me way back when; not only did I just... enjoy expressing myself by writing it—but it also gave me endless encouragement to know that even one person could like what I created. It was the first time I had ever done a project like this, and to get any kind of positive reception meant the world to me.
> 
> As stated in the summary, this story's been written in advance. There's fifteen chapters, totaling to around forty-thousand words. Updates will be posted every Friday and Tuesday. In addition, reviews and kudos are very much appreciated! I'd love to hear anyone's comments on my writing, even if it is a bit dated at this point.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. I hope you'll enjoy "To Save You" as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

To Save You

"Princess Hilda, I… I just wanted to save you from all this—you, who've worried endlessly about the fate of Lorule."

* * *

There they were, gazing up at the greatest power their world had ever fathomed. Three, golden triangles—upside down as they were otherwise known. While it was a fairly simple sight—there was hardly a more beautiful image in the world.

It was Lorule's Triforce.

Hilda couldn't believe it. With wide eyes, the dark princess put her gloved palms to her vibrant lips. It was there, it was true. She felt as though she were dreaming, like all her evil deeds had actually been _worth_  something, despite knowing that could never truly be the case. Yet, somehow, despite her terrible actions—Princess Hilda's wish'd come to life.

Behind her (and on the ground, as he'd yet to find his balance), Ravio's eyes widened as well. His face lit up, beaming in expression. While he  _didn't_  feel like he was dreaming—he could hardly believe it either. Well, actually… that was a lie. He had no trouble believing it. It was a miracle, yes—but he'd become quite acquainted with a certain hero as of late, who had a habit of bring forth the impossible. Regardless—it  _was_  the most beautiful sight either of them had ever seen. Their wish had really come true.

And they both knew whom had granted it.

Hilda was overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the golden light, yes, but more-so, by her feelings of gratitude. It wasn't long before the princess broke into tears. Happy tears; thankful tears. Tears she'd _never_  cried in her life. "Thank you, Princess Zelda… Oh, thank you…" Hilda whimpered, knowing her words would be heard across space and time. "And to you as well, Hero of Hyrule—" Falling to her knees, clutching her heart, Hilda called out to Lorule's savior. Through her sobs, she smiled the most genuine kind of smile. "Thank you, Link!"

From behind his princess, Ravio gave a hopeless smile. He could hardly recall a time when he'd so overwhelmed with emotion. She was never one to cry, or wear her heart on her sleeve. Yet, here she was, bawling her eyes out for the first time in years—as their world's power was born once again. He'd never seen her so sincere—though, to be fair, she never quite had a _reason_  to be _._  That is, until now.

After a moment, he rose to his feet. He took a few steps forward, to where he needed to be—at her side. With an abnormally bright smile, Ravio said nothing, but kneeled next to her. Lending her the infectiously cheerful expression, he held his hand out for Hilda to take. The dark princess caught sight of his palm, then looking up to his pallid face. Her watery eyes reflected from his bright, olive ones. She sniffled a bit, knowing how atrocious she must've look at that moment. Yet, her horrid state didn't stop Ravio's kind heart. As it clearly never had, and never could.

After a moment, she was slow but sure to place her hand in his. Ravio helped Her Highness to her feet. His hold was gentle, though firm, and all-together comforting. More than anything, however, Hilda felt most secure in seeing his expression. His smile.

Returning Ravio's amiable gesture, she gave his hand a light squeeze. With that, they said nothing, though they felt everything. Hand-in-hand, the duo turned to the exit of the Sacred Realm, as Hilda ushered her final words of gratitude on that day.

"And thank _you_ , Ravio."


	2. Chapter 2

All He Did

Ravio found himself in the doorway of his formally vacant abode. After the days events, he thought no better place to go, than the one house he missed most—his own. Looking up to his winged companion, Ravio asked, "Been a long time since we were here, huh, Buddy?" Though, it didn't feel nearly as long as it  _actually_  had been. That was probably because it had a near-identical atmosphere to the house he'd been residing at, for the past few weeks now—Link's.

Well, ah, perhaps not entirely. Or, not at all.

The main difference between the two was—Link knew how to clean, and Ravio really didn't. He was always a messy person, and his house was no exception. It was unorganized in every sense of the word. The violet-haired boy paused for a second—contemplating, tapping his foot. "Maybe I should straighten up a bit before we get settled in?" he asked, looking up at his little winged companion, then back down at the junk heap in front of him. Sheerow urged him, but it was only a moment before Ravio shrugged, concluding with an adamant "naaah".

Aimlessly kicking at the mounds of furniture that boarded up his house—Ravio knocked his wooden bed frame down to its legs. Hardly bothering to locate his comforter, he flopped down on the rickety structure, laying back in a relaxed position. The hard surface didn't bother him, however. He'd gotten use to such, in fact—what with laying on Link's floor so often.

With a deep breath, he let out a relaxed exhale. "Sure does feel good to be back home though, wouldn't'cha say?" he yawned, to which his winged companion peeped in confirmation. Ravio chuckled. "Wonder what I'll do first in the retired life?" he asked rhetorically, sounding all-too-happy for himself. "I  _can_  do anything I want now, y'know. With the fortune I made off Mr. Hero, and Lorule finally on its way to peace, I mean—who _knows_  what I'll do first! Maybe I'll sleep for twenty-four hours straight, or go on a nice needed vacation, or just get a whole vacation house or, or—whatever I want!" he laughed.

Getting legitimately excited from his words, Ravio rose to his feet. Without a second thought, the young man starter twirling in circles, pulling off silly, un-choreographed dance steps—which wasn't exactly unusual for him. He often danced like no one was looking, or perhaps even more often, when people  _were._  Sheerow joined in his excitement, flapping his wings in sporadic patterns. Naturally, he started rambling off the song. The one he always sung when in such an optimistic mood. Come to think of it it was song he'd only started singing again, as of late. Albeit a tad silly, it was his favorite tune, and one he'd made up, himself.

"Maybe by tomorrow, the sun is gonna glow!" Ravio looked up to Sheerow, waving his long sleeved arms in the air. The bird mimicked his motions. "And maybe by tomorrow, not gonna stub my toe!" he sang (from personal experience), laughing all the while. "Or maybe by tomorrow, the snow is gonna blow!" Ravio twirled with his excitement, waving his hands over his head. "So, maybe by tomorrow—!"

And just then—like day and night, his mood lowered in an instant. Sheerow twitched his head to the side in confusion, as Ravio stopped his dancing. His voice trailed off, as did his thoughts, all upon remembering the last line of the song. He paused for a moment, looking over to the purple, bunny printed diary that sat on his desk. His expression fell weak, though his smile prevailed yet. He was then soft, but sure to conclude his song.

"I'll let Hilda know."

Stepping over the junk heaps that covered his carpet, Ravio soon found himself gazing down at his journal. Aimlessly, he opened it, flipping through the pages. Pages of his deepest thoughts, fears, desires, and anything in between. He skimmed most the entries, paying virtually no mind to them. That is, until he came to the most recent one.

* * *

1 Day to Go

I have so little magic. Enough to go there—maybe not come back. But tomorrow is the day.

I may never see her again, but I vow to save her from all of this.

* * *

Ravio re-read his words, taking them in once more. He remembered the anxiety he felt when writing them the first time. He then paused for a moment, before reaching to the purple, bunny-capped pen at the journal's side. Taking it in hand, he flipped to the next page.

* * *

A New Day

I did it. I'm here again.

She's safe, and I'm back at her side.

* * *

Closing the journal, he didn't give it another glance. Blowing out the candle on his wall, Ravio then gave a silent exhale. He took a few steps to his bed frame, laying back on it, gently this time. Sheerow, sensing his friend's mood, curled up on Ravio's chest in comfort. Then, with his arms sprawled out at his sides, the young man looked up at the dark ceiling.

His mind soon drifted away, to a place it often did. It drifted to her. To blissful, enticing, and ever-fond thoughts of her. His consciousness was soon to fade out as well, because for now, he could only see her imagine under closed eyes.

"Hilda."

All he did, he did for her. To say that Ravio was dedicated to Princess Hilda was _very_  much an understatement. His loyalty for Her Highness went far beyond that of a typical familiar. He'd besiege the heavens themselves just to spare her pain. Or at least—that's what he  _wished_ he could say.

As it would be, however, Ravio was far too cowardice to take the typical route of a savior. Such heroics like Link had managed to pull off were what Ravio could only dream of. While Link was a hero, Ravio was quite the opposite. He knew nothing of combat. He hardly knew how to hold a sword—much less wield it. But, even as that was the case—Ravio swore, he'd always find a way to protect Her Highness.

Be it the less traveled path, a pensive one, or from the help of another—whatever he could manage, he'd do it for her. Even as a child, he vowed he'd be the one to save her. He'd be there for her, for as long as they both lived. He proved that today, yes, but he wasn't out to  _prove_  himself. He wasn't out to play the hero. He just wanted to take care of her, to put her heart at ease, if only in the single way he could.

Now, Hilda wasn't just a damsel in distress. —Strike that, she  _wasn't_  a damsel in distress, but rather, she was so much more. They'd known one another since they were children, and somehow, she'd always managed to be everything he wasn't—everything he needed to be. She was strong, she was brave. Hilda was the most important person in his life—though she had her faults, of course, being was hostile, scheming, and envious—but, really, he'd rather her no other way. She was his salvation _,_  his strength, his resolve. She was his princess, and Ravio loved her, with all his heart.

While not strong, courageous, or daring—he vowed he'd be the one to save her, because she was the one who always saved him.


	3. Chapter 3

Redemption

It was late that same night; Hilda sat at her vanity. Running a brush through her dark, indigo hair, the princess found herself lost deep in thought. Hilda pondered her actions, regretful or otherwise, as they felt like little more than dreams and delusions at this point. She thought of the people she'd met, the people she'd known—she wondered about the future, of Lorule's new hope.

Her land was now free—but she wasn't so sure if she, herself, were quite the same. Hilda gazed at the mirror in front of her, yet unsure if she liked all of what she saw. Though… there was something. Despite knowing her own appearance full-well, Lorule's sovereign couldn't help but see the image of her lighter half, in the reflection. Zelda.

"I'm so fortunate to have met you, Princess Zelda," Hilda said softly, despite knowing her words could not be heard. Placing a single palm below her collar bone, over her heart, she closed her eyes. The radiant face of Hyrule's princess appeared in her mind. "Your kindness knows no bound, your heart is true. Hyrule is truly gifted to have a ruler as you—as I am lucky to have ever known someone of your grace as well."

The dark princess had once heard a saying—it wasn't simply chance when two lives came in contact. It was a preordained happening, something set from birth. There was a _reason_  people met. They brought lessons to share with, and to teach one another. While Hilda was sure that clearly proved true today—she couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever done the same for anyone, or if she ever could.

Regardless of why, both Zelda and Link had done a wonderful thing, for a world they'd never even see again. Hilda only hoped she'd be able to follow in their footsteps one day—as Lorule's future queen, she truly hoped. She wanted to be like those she was so thankful toward; the people who'd help her learn and grow. She wanted to be like Link, and Princess Zelda, and most certainly—like one other life she could never forget. Ravio. Just thinking of him, the princess clutched her heart.

How could he forgive her so easily? After all the terrible deeds she committed, the people she'd hurt, and the way she treated him personally, if nothing else. The question repeated itself in her mind—why? It almost though she didn't know the answer—but really, she did not have to think far at all to truly know.

The reason Ravio had returned, the reason he was still loyal—it was simply because, he was him.

Was it because he was simple, because did not know anything else? No, that was not the reason. Ravio was perhaps the wisest person she'd ever met. He was not simple. No, he was anything but simple.

Her mind flipped and turned, recalling the last conversation she'd had with him, before he had left. Her heart lunged, yet unsure if it was just a memory, or a nightmare come true.

* * *

It was their last day together. The day before he had disappeared, and the day before Yuga would leave to capture the Seven Sages.

Ravio stood before Hilda in Lorule's Throne Room. Her Highness was turned away from him, she was staring at an empty, golden picture frame—one soon to be occupied by her lighter half— _very_  much to her company's protesting. From the first time Hilda had spoken to Ravio of her plan—he did not approve. He'd spent countless hours attempting to talk her out of it, and he knew, this would be his last chance.

"Please, Princess Hilda," he begged, "please, reconsider your plan. This is—"

Having grown tired of his endless pleading, she cut him off. "Why can't you just have faith in me, Ravio?"

He held a weak expression. "You know I've always had faith in you," he reassured her, "but… but something just  _isn't right_ here."

Even if she could hear the truth in his words, Hilda stood strong and adamant. This was for the land of Lorule, her people, and even him. Why could he not understand that? "Your heart's too soft to see the bigger picture," she hissed.

"This has nothing to do with my personal views, Princess," he stated. Yet deploring her to see reason, Ravio was blatant in stating, "Can't you see past Yuga's false intentions?"

His words made her brow twitch in the slightest. "For the last time, Yuga is on our side."

There was a long pause between the two, before Ravio finally worked up the courage to reply—to say what really needed to be say. "No, Your Highness," he dared to correct her, " _you're_  on  _his_."

Hilda blinked, growing confused with his statement. She turned to face the purple clad boy. His expression was serious, though ever-meek. Tempered, Hilda clenched her staff firmly. Hoping she misunderstood him, she inquired, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Ravio was hesitant for a moment, before giving a long and tired exhale. He was at the end of his rope. Getting down on his hands and knees, he lowered his head.

"I'm begging you, Princess," he started, "please. You know—you know in your _heart_  that this isn't right. Nothing good will come from taking Hyrule's Triforce. Yuga says this other world is lively and peaceful—everything ours once was. Nothing good will come from taking that away from the people who live there. It isn't fair to—"

"Was it fair to have ours taken from us, Ravio?!" Hilda lashed out. To which the kneeling boy could only flinch. Ravio could hear the pain in her tone, the jealousy. He looked up at her in neither anger, nor retaliation, but rather, in his deepest concern.

"Princess…"

Hilda turned away from him, facing the empty picture frame. "My decision is final, Ravio. Whether you agree is irrelevant. You can stay and watch Lorule in its restoration…" Her demeanor soon reflected his, as she was hesitant and un-wanting to finish her thought. "Or you can fall with all who resist us."

As it would happen, Ravio preemptively knew how the conversation was to end—for he was quite familiar with Hilda's resolve. Once her mind was set on something, there was no changing it—and while he knew Hilda honestly believed her intentions were for the better, Ravio's heart was set otherwise. His head remained lowered for a few moments longer, before the boy looked up to Her Highness. He stood silently—as he then turned away.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," said Ravio.

Hilda felt her heart skip a beat. She looked back to him in disbelief, hardly knowing what to say. "You…" she muttered softly, choking on her words, "you—of all people." The princess clenched her teeth, glaring daggers at him all the while. "Go then!" shouted Hilda, swinging her staff to the doorway. "Lorule doesn't need the help of a coward as you!"

The princess's words would've cut anyone, otherwise—but Ravio could easily see through her raging façade. While she wasn't happy about his parting, yes, it wasn't in anger. It was in sadness—the same sadness he felt. After a moment, though without a second thought—Ravio turned back to Her Highness, getting down on his knee once more. Though, this time, is was not to beg. Instead, he put a hand over his heart and looked up to her. At which the dark princess soon found it hard to stay hostile.

"You're right, my princess. I'm the farthest thing from brave," he replied, knowing the truth in her words. "But I promise, my best of intentions  _are_  with Lorule—as they always will be," he paused, "because, no matter where, and no matter when…" Ravio slowly gazed back up to her. As he had so many times in their lives, the boy lent Her Highness his brightest of grins. "My loyalty forever remains withyou."

Again, the princess was at a loss for words. Well—that was a lie. She had a million things to say, but for reasons she understood full-well, Hilda's heart ached with his words. She slammed her eyes shut, and had no choice but to push such feelings to the back of her mind. She turned away from him one last time. "Please, Ravio…" she said softly, "just leave."

Raising to his feet, Ravio gave one last glance to his princess. It was in apology, and longing, because,. for all he knew—this might very-well have been the last time he'd see her. He then turned away, tugging his bunny-hood over his head, concealing his face.

"I'll miss you, Princess Hilda."

* * *

"Ravio," she said softly, again, knowing her words couldn't be heard.

If only she would have listened. If only she would've seen his reasoning sooner. So much of Hilda was made from what she learned from Ravio—yet, for some reason, she thought it wise to go against him. For that very reason, if nothing else, she was a fool.

For the second time that day, Hilda found herself in tears. A drop of regret slid down her cheek. Hilda turned her back on him—on her voice of reason, her dear friend, the person who cared for her the most.

"I'm sorry."

She looked back to her reflection, wanting nothing more than to shatter the mirror this time. All recollection of Princess Zelda had since faded. Hilda hated what she saw. She couldn't help but wonder why Ravio didn't feel this very same way about her. Somehow, despite everything, he was still able to see the good in her. Perhaps he  _was_  a coward, but that didn't stop him from having the purest heart she'd ever come in contact with. It didn't make him any more of a hero, but in his very own way, he was a savoir. Her savior.

Perhaps—since Ravio could find redemption in her, there might've been a way for her to do the same. He was the one who had always shown her what's right, after all. Perhaps she needed to follow his example this time as well.

Hilda'd done so much wrong in her life, but now was a chance for her to start all over. While the path to atonement was long and winding, she was sure Ravio would be there—walking beside her all the while. He'd be there to guide her, to aid her, to redeem her. He'd be there to light the way. As he always had been, and always would be—Ravio would be there. He'd be there to save her.


	4. Chapter 4

A New Day

Early that next morning, Ravio laid in his bed—still asleep, wearing an abnormally goofy smile. Sleep talking in a euphoric trance, Ravio muttered, "Oh, Hilda… what a beautiful shade of violet lipstick you're wearing…" Unconsciously, he clasped his hands tight around Sheerow, who was resting next to him. Rudely awoken, the tiny bird was immediate to peep and squeak in discomfort. Bringing Sheerow closer to his own face, the young man muttered, "You wouldn't mind if I—"

Well, quite on the contrary, Sheerow  _did_  mind. Having none of Ravio's annoying sleep habits, the creature slashed his talon at the boy's bottom lip. Promptly brought to consciousness, Ravio released the bird from his hands. "Ow!" he yelped, jolting upwards, clutching his tiny wound. "W-what was that for!?" Sheerow flapped his wings and squawked frantically. It was only after a moment, but Ravio's face lit light pink, and he laughed uncomfortably. Understanding Sheerow's displeasure, he said, "O-oh. Sorry 'bout that, Buddy."

Still half asleep, Ravio mindlessly rubbed the back of his palm to his bleeding lip. For such a little guy, Sheerow sure could—

Abruptly, Ravio was halted in his tracks.

He paused for a moment—upon catching the slightest, sleepy glimpse of his hand. Suddenly, he froze, not moving an inch. Through his peripheral vision, his skin almost glimmered, seeming somehow different. Slowly removing his palm his face, Ravio glanced down. At that moment, his heart skipped a beat.

"…W-what?" he exhaled, feeling suddenly exasperated and awake. Ravio blinked a couple times, then rubbing his eyes ferociously with his free hand—praying to the Goddesses that he was imagining things. Upon seeing no difference, he trembled a bit. "Oh, Goddesses," he thought, "please let me still be dreaming."

Extending his hand out at arms length, he could only stare, being entirely traumatized. Imprinted on the back of his right hand was a familiar symbol. It was very faint, being almost unnoticeable—but it yet glimmered in the morning light. It was the faded symbol of three, outlined triangles.

It was the Triforce.

Bewildered, Ravio could hardly understand what was going on. Was this real, he asked himself? Was this happening?

As anyone, he'd heard the legends, and even  _seen_ them paralleled in Hyrule. Link wore the near-same symbol on his left hand. His Hyrulean counterpart was the chosen holder of the Triforce of Courage—quite fittingly at that—so why did  _Ravio_ bare the same mark? The Goddesses sure would've had a backwards sense of humor to say  _he_ was worthy of such a title, too. He was a coward in every sense of the word (had he not proved that by the exact journey he'd arrived from, the very day before?) Yet there and on the back of his hand were three— _very_ apparent upside-down triangles.

This was not real. This was not happening. "This has to been a mistake!" he though to himself, "A mistake, or—or _something!"_

"…Off!" he now fussed aloud, literally  _at_  the marking (as though it could actually listen.) His tone was rather like that of a child's. Seeming to think it'd help, he rubbed furiously at the back of his hand. "Off!" Ravio shouted again, scratching at it this time. Despite the incessant irritation it caused, however, there was no result in his efforts. What should he do? Should he leave it alone? Pretend it didn't exist? Go back to bed and hope it would disappear by the time he woke up? All certainly sounded like great options to him…

Suddenly, Ravio felt more lost than he'd ever had in his life. This isn't why he went to Hyrule, and this isn't why tried so hard to restore Lorule's Triforce. He did it for  _any_  reason but this. He did it for—

"—Wait," he suddenly though. The boy paused for a moment, thinking on the fact. If Link's Lorulean counterpart held a shard of the Triforce, did that mean—Princess Zelda's did, too?

Practically springing out of bed, Ravio tugged his hood over his eyes. He rushed to his front door, Sheerow in pursuit. Feeling incredibly unsure about consulting Hilda on this subject at the moment, he knew it was something he couldn't ignore. Keeping it from her would just make things worse, and he dared not upset Hilda; her temper was far more terrifying than any mark could ever be.

* * *

Finding himself just outside an unusually peaceful Lorule Castle, the boy rushed across the bridge suspended above an endless chasm. Well, one thing was going well today, at least. He'd yet to see any sign of Moblins, Hinox, or the like. Deducting the peaceful atmosphere of the structure, he was bold in pushing past the heavy, front doors. It was one of the first times he'd done so, in fact. Could this be the Triforce's doin—? Nope.

He jinxed himself—for the second he stopped on the castle's red carpet, he was greeted with the sight of a familiar swine-like beast. He backed against the entry way, feeling his hair stand on end. He and Sheerow let out harmonized cries. Okay, yeah— _maybe_ they should've taken the back entrance. Though instead of a harsh greeting, as Ravio expect, the monster looked nothing less than amused. Giving an unattractive smile, it said, "What's the matter, Sir? Are you lost? Goodness, it looks like you've seen a ghost."

Suddenly, Ravio's girlish shrill came to a halt. He blinked, then regaining a regular stance. "Not… too far from it?" The boy tilted his head slightly, still on-guard. "You're not gonna eat me?" he asked, feeling legitimately surprised (not only by the fact, but also by the seeming intelligence the Moblin displayed.) The beast shook its head with a laugh—to which Ravio could only raise an eyebrow. Well, this was… new. Then taking notice to his surroundings—the creature in front of him wasn't all that was different, in Lorule Castle.

The young man felt an air of bewilderment pass over him. The structures atmosphere was widely different altogether. The main hall was, well… it was no longer a death trap, putting it bluntly. It looked run-down, but not menacing as it used to. There was hardly a foe in sight; that unattractive pool of lava was empty and bare (good thing, too—he'd been telling Hilda to get rid of it for  _years_  now.) It was empty, but it was peaceful. Ravio didn't have much of a chance to look around, however, as a familiar figure then turned the corner.

"Goodness. I heard you from all the way down the hall, Ravio."

Noticing her, he perked up. Feeling safe for certain, the boy cheered, "Princess Hilda!"

"Your Highness," added the beast, giving an uncharacteristic bow. Again, Ravio turned back to the creature, entirely confused. Noticing such, the monster bowed to Ravio as well. "Allow me to apologize, Sir. I didn't mean to startle you."

"Uh… no problem, I guess," he replied, rather unsure of how to handle this situation.

"You can be at ease, Ravio. You have nothing to fear," Hilda added in, stepping over to put a hand on the Moblin's shoulder. "In fact…" she smiled softly, "You should feel safer than ever." Ravio, hearing as much from her—seeing the expression upon her face—soon though he understood. Looks like he wasn't wrong after all.

Feeling an instant wave of happiness rush over him, the boy perked up. "Does this mean what I think it does?" he asked, excitedly.

"I think it certainly does," Hilda replied, laughing in the slightest.

Trotting over to her with a sort of spring in his step, he certainly wasn't hesitant to take her hands in his. With a big smile, however cloaked by his hood, he cheered, "Things are looking better already, Princess. I never thought—ack!" He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, before he felt an unpleasant tugging on the back of cloak. The Moblin lifted him up by his knotted scarf, hoisting him high in the air. Unattractively, Ravio choked and gagged. He flailed in fright. "And just who do you think you are, to be so informal with Her Highness?" the creature asked, giving a low growl. Well—that was a mood swing if he ever saw one.

Though, as she usually did, Hilda was prompt to come to his rescue. She lifted her staff in the air, then shoving it firmly to the ground. "You put him down this instant!" the princess demanded.

And doing so, the beast seemed startled. It dropped Ravio (who then fell to the floor with a an unpleasant "thud".) "M-my sincerest apologize, Your Royal Highness," said the creature quickly, giving yet-another low bow. "I just assumed this…  _stranger_  would not be of your familiars."

" _You're_  the strange one!" Ravio dared to retaliate—as he then yelped, when the Moblin snarled at him.

"Ravio's of my dearest friends." Hilda leaned down, lending the boy a hand up. Remembering his mission, Ravio tried to catch a glimpse at the back of her palm. Oh wait. Hilda always wore again. Once he was safely back on his feet, she explained, "He's always welcome here."

"As you wish, Princess Hilda," the creature complied, giving her an affirmative nod and another bow (and perhaps a subtle glare at Ravio.)

Going back about its business when excused, the monster turned away. Hilda looked back to the boy in front of her, as he dusted off his purple robe. "Are you alright?" she asked. Ravio nodded, letting Hilda feel at ease once more. "I wasn't expecting you'd be here so early," she said, changing the subject with a small smile. "I figure you'd sleep till at least three, now that you'd have the chance."

He laughed slightly, rubbing the back of his head—conveniently shielding his right hand from her view. "Well… can't say I wasn't really plannin' on it!"

"There's much I'd like to talk about, regardless. I'm glad you're here." She gave a gentle smile, and despite his rough morning, Ravio returned the expression from beneath his hood, and not out of obligation, but sincerity.

* * *

The duo stood side by side, strolling down the pathway between Hilda's study and Lorule's Throne Room. They held a comfortable silence, stopping to look out on their land's scene. Occasionally, Sheerow'd peck at Ravio's hand, cloaked by his long, purple sleeve—only to be swatted away with a "shh", however.

Eventually said silence was broken, though, as Ravio was eager to ask, "So, Princess, maybe this is a stupid question, but why's the castle so…" he paused, coughing awkwardly to find the right term, " _different,_ now?" He scratched the side of his cheek, giving a bashful laugh. He knew it must've been the Triforce's doing, but that didn't explain  _why_ , exactly.

Hilda understood his confusion however, simply complying with a small nod. "The beasts that've dwelt in Lorule's Castle have always been subjects to the royal family," answered Hilda. Ravio knew such to be true, as the sovereign always held some kind of command of over them. "While their loyalty has withstood the test of time, their intelligence and conscious human nature hasn't. You see, they were all Loruleans, long ago—not at all different from you and I. That is, before my family destroyed our Triforce," the princess explained, "When there was no law, after its destruction—those wishing revenge on my family cast a curse on our subjects." Generations of regret lingered in Hilda's tone. "They were turned into mindless beasts."

Hoping to stray her mind to the present, he in-turn asked, "But if that curse's broken now, then why're they still… y'know," he stumbled through his words. Was there a nice way to put this? "Scary and stuff?"

Hilda paused for a moment. "Even with our Triforce restored, it'll take time for them to regain their previous state." She gazed far off in the distance. Though it was a new morning, their land still looked the same, as it did the day before. "Just all it will for all of Lorule."

Knowing she'd yet to forgive herself and her ancestors, Ravio put on an air of enthusiasm. "With you as our ruler, and the Goddesses looking over us again—I know it won't be long at all before we're as good as new!"

Hilda gave a small smile, turning to him. "Thank you, Ravio," she said earnestly, "Your words are too kind, as they always are."

He grinned brightly. "It's only the truth, Your Royal Highness!" he said, clasping his hands together—bouncing in place, if only slightly.

The princess covered her lips, giggling a bit. Though despite his typical gracious nature, a single question floated in her mind yet, as she gazed over upon his floppy bunny hood. Soon she inquired, "And may I ask you something that's been on my mind as well?"

Cheerfully, he replied, "Of course!"

She was silent for a moment. Pointing to the rabbit ears atop his head, she asked, "Why do you wear your hood, yet?"

Ravio opened his mouth, preemptively assuming he could reply easily. He was silenced, however, the second he realized his answer.

All their lives, Hilda couldn't recall a time when Ravio'd hidden his face with her—and most especially, when it was just the two of them. She had a strong feeling she knew the reason he did now, however. When he didn't answer, the princess reached over. After leaning her staff against the wall for a moment, she gently took either side of the hood in her hands. She pulled the garment over Ravio's head, revealing his face. He looked almost guilty, knowing the princess could see right through him.

"You have no reason to be ashamed, Ravio," Hilda finally said. Her voice was soft, almost apologetic. Given the fact, Ravio wanted so hard to believe her words, but regardless, he could not.

"Regardless of my intentions… you were right, Princess," he eventually said, "I  _did_  turn my back on Lorule." For that, he hardly felt worthy of showing himself to the world around them, and most especially, to Hilda.

"But where would we be if you didn't?" Her Highness retorted. Looking away, he could not smile. He was caught slightly off guard, however, when Hilda reached over to him once more. The princess put warm hand against his pallid cheek. "Please, Ravio," she said, "don't hide your face."

He enjoyed the feeling of her palm to his face for a few moments longer. Taking her request in consideration, he gave a single nod. "Whatever you wish, my princess."

Somewhat relieved, Hilda gave a weak smile. After lingering for a moment longer, she removed her palm from him cheek. However, Ravio—again remembering his mission, stopped his princess from fully doing so. He took her right hand in his left. The princess blinked, confused with her company's actions.

"Princess…" Ravio started, wanting anything but to discuss the reason he'd come to her today, but knowing he'd already waited long enough. Still holding her hand up, he asked, "Did… did you happen to notice anything…  _different_ , when you were getting dressed his morning?" Ravio inquired—to which Hilda raised an eyebrow,  _quite appropriately._ Suddenly blushing, realizing how strange his statement must've sounded, he released her hold—frantically waving his hands. "No, no!" he corrected himself, "T-that's not what I meant!"

"Are you feeling alright, Ravio?" Hilda asked, shooting him a strange look. "You're acting odd."

Well, he couldn't really disagree with her there. Unsure of how to ask this correctly, if there was a way at all, he simply resorted to the Ravio method of doing things. That being, awkwardly. "…Princess Hilda," he started, almost shyly, "if I may?" Shifting, he was gentle to grip the top of her glove. Mirroring his, Hilda's cheeks lit a light pink, as Ravio tugged at her silk mitten.

"What are you—?" The princess's statement was halted, however, as he lifted her hand for them to gaze upon. They were both overwhelmed in seeing what was there.

It was as he predicted. On the back of her hand were three faint triangles, glimmering in the light, and barely noticeable. Just like Ravio's; not unlike Zelda's. Feeling the same surprise as Ravio had that morning—Hilda's crimson eyes went wide. She dropped her staff, covering her violet lips with a gasp.

"It's… it's the—!" she stuttered, though she could not finish her thought.

Looking up to the girl before him, he voiced the truth Hilda could not believe. "The Triforce."


	5. Chapter 5

The Coward, the Fool

Very much like Ravio that same morning—the sovereign could only stare in total bewilderment. "W-why… why do I—?"

"Are you really so surprised, Your Royal Highness?" Ravio asked, giving a weak laugh, "Hyrule's royal family's long since held the Triforce of Wisdom. It'd only make sense that the same would hold true, for yours as well."

Hardly capable of wrapping her mind around the idea, Hilda put her free palm lightly to her forehead. "But… I-I'm—I'm not—?" She was nothing like , she wasn't—not even in the slightest.

Zelda had endless wisdom—knowledge far beyond her years, and it was all learned on the account of one incredibly large, differing factor. That being, her empathy, the knowledge and understanding which came from her heart. Given this fact, Hilda was just about as different as a person could be. Hilda was a fool.

So why in Lorule did she bare the same mark? Hilda knew she had rigorous a trial ahead of her in restoring her kingdom, but suddenly—the world's expectations for her felt higher than ever. Not only did she have to live up to the expectations of her people, but the expectations of the  _Goddesses_  now as well. They'd all look to and judge her for guidance, and that was almost as terrifying as the formally anticipated destruction of Lorule.

Coming back to reality (as dazed as she may've felt), the princess looked back to Ravio. In sudden realization, she was quick to ask, "Wait, how did you know about—?"

She stopped mid-sentence in realization. Connecting the dots, she thought on the matter. The princess was preemptive in answering her own question. Hyrule's Princess, her Hyrulean counterpart, held a shard of the Triforce. As it would happen, the same could be said for Link— _Ravio's_  Hyrulean counterpart.

Reaching over, she tugged at his long purple sleeve—pulling his hand from out behind his back. He looked almost ashamed, revealing his hand to her, his mark. "Ravio," she exhaled, in the same disbelief he felt from before, "I… I don't believe it." To which the violet-haired boy had lowered his head. He was expecting her to be nothing less than confused, if not angered by the fact. With a heart similar to that of an actual bunny, he was anything but worthy of the mark of the Triforce. Ravio had long since proven his cowardice to her, there was no way Hilda would accept this.

Apologetically, he muttered, "I… I didn't—" He could hardly finish his though, however, as he was caught off guard in seeing the corners of Her Highness's mouth twitch up the ever-slightest. He was perhaps even more suprised, feeling his princess's gentle palm around his own.

"I should've known from the start," said Hilda. Ravio's eyes went wide with her next words. "Lorule was never  _truly_  without its hero."

To which his heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, an unbearable tingling sensation went down Ravio's spine. His hair stood on end, as though he'd heard someone scratch their nails down a front of chalk board. "…W-what?!" he shouted instantly, "I-I'm the farthest thing from a hero, Your Highness! Have I not proven my lacking bravery?!"

"But is that the case?" she asked seriously. "You've always hidden behind the assumption that you're only a coward, but it would appear the Goddesses have clearly seen you fit for a different fate," Hilda corrected. "I should've realized it from the first moment I laid eyes on Link," she said, remembering the painful surprise in seeing their shared likeness. "How fitting that his title is carried over to you."

Hilda's words were engulfing, suffocating. He felt like he was drowning in Lorule's newly-freed air. "P-Princess… _please,_ " said the boy with rabbit ears. It almost hurt, but Ravio pulled away from her, tucking his hand in his sleeve once more. "Surely, you can't believe such to be really be true?" he deplored her to see reason. "Just because Link is a hero does not mean I am as well—it means nothing at all!" Her expression turned weak, as Ravio voiced his valid concerns. He dared to correct her way of thinking, but Ravio wasn't about to let his princess go on believing such a divine lie. "Anyone who believes otherwise is just a fool!"

And if his words had not damaged her yet, that very last statement stabbed Hilda's conscious like a thousand needs. They struck her far more than they were meant to. Hilda's violet lips fell to a frown. "Well…" said the princess—solemn, guiltily, "I've certainly proven that much of myself, now haven't I?"

Instantly, his mood flipped. He cursed himself for speaking without thought. Frantic with the fact that he couldn't do anything right today, Ravio corrected his statement to truth. "No, no! That's not what I meant, Your Royal Highness!"

Hilda knew he meant no harm—but even if his words weren't meant in to sting, that did not change the cold hard truth. Slowly, Hilda knelt down, picking her staff up once again. Soon in agreement, the princess clutched her heart.

"Maybe the Goddesses  _are_  mistaken," she said, though this time, she wasn't speaking of Ravio. A foolish princess, a cowardly hero? "Maybe this is their way of punishing us. Maybe… Lorule's wrong can never  _truly_  be made right."

Ravio held a weak expression. Her tone was so hurt, she looked so pained. Kneeling in apology, he gazed up to the dark sovereign. "Please don't say such things, Princess Hilda. There's hardly a person in Lorule more fit for the part than you."

Hilda sounded almost cross, knowing his obligation to say as much. "Don't patronize me, Ravio. I'm the farthest thing from wise. Even a child has a better sense of judgement than I," she hissed, "Children know the basic fundamentals of what's right and what's wrong. That is something I cannot say for myself."

"T-That's… no way to look to the future," he said, though less than convincingly, "Everyone makes mistakes, my princess."

"Though I have made the greatest mistakes of all," said Hilda begrudgingly. There was a long pause between the two. Ravio lowered his head a bit, wishing there was a way to help her see otherwise. It was after a moment, but finally, her subject spoke.

"But where would we be, should you have chosen otherwise?" he said, taking the very same words she'd voice in Ravio's moment of self-doubt. Almost sadly, she looked to Ravio, who held nothing more a small and hopeful smile. "It's been said that 'the ends justify the means'. Yes, you've made poor decisions, as have I. But you can't let that define you. It does not matter now, don't you agree?" Forgetting all about his own fears and weakness, Ravio didn't think twice to come to Her Highness's aid. Sincerely, he asked, "Please, Princess Hilda… forgive yourself."

Gazing down at the imprint on her hand, Hilda took his words in deepest consideration. Remembering the last time she went against his judgement, she clenched her fist. Taking a deep breath, she held her hand to her heart. It was a hard fact to face—one almost terrifying. But if Ravio thought otherwise, she knew it best to trust his judgement. "I'll try my hardest," she finally said.

With Hilda's complying, Ravio's smile grew wide. Perking up, he clasped his hands together. Putting on a lively mood—one just for her, Ravio said, "That's the Princess Hilda I know!"

She looked down at him, overwhelmed with the infectious nature of his cheery attitude. With a soft exhale, she said, "And that's the Ravio that I know."

Her praise was enough to liven his mood. Somehow, that was always the case. He gave a small laugh, perhaps in amazement. It was hard to find the courage to move forward, but somehow, Princess Hilda always could. Now if only he could follow her example.

* * *

Ravio and Hilda had since relocated to the castle's library, thinking it wise to have a look through Lorule's historical documents. Whatever knowledge was documented about their Triforce was needed, perhaps now more than ever.

Quoting lines from  _Lorule Historia_ , Ravio recited, "'The first shard of the Triforce resides with the women of Lorule's royal family', that being, you, clearly," he pointed to Hilda. "'And the next rests within the land's greatest threat'."

"Yuga?" Hilda asked, almost hopefully, knowing it'd no longer hold true in such a case.

"We can only assume," he soon replied. "He was the one who devised the plan to invade Hyrule and overthrow you, after all. I'd hate to think… that was within the hands of another." In compliance, Hilda nodded. After a moment, Ravio hesitantly read on. "'And the last shard remains," he swallowed hard, "with Lorule's greatest hero.'"

With a small smile, Hilda said, "Well what do you know." While such words perhaps overjoyed her, Ravio could not feel the same. To him, the text was nothing more than lies on a page.

Changing the subject, he simply said, "Still, though. I do wonder one thing." He dared to gaze at the mark he exhibited, then pointing at the three different diagrams in on the page. "The pictures here show the shards of the Triforce filled in," puzzled, the boy cocked an eyebrow, "while ours are just blank."

Leaning over, Hilda flipped through the pages. After a moment of silent searching, the princess was soon to find the answer. "'It is said that the holders can only harness this holy power when they've proven themselves worthy of such a title," she stopped, zoning out as she read the truth, "and when they've realize this quality, within themselves'." The two looked to each other, each basking in the glory that was they respective complexes.

"Looks like Lorule's never gonna get much use outta me," Ravio said softly, giving a sad smile.

Hilda looked empathetic. "Oh, Ravi—"

"I think that's enough for today, Your Grace" he gave a weak laugh, closing the book with a sigh of relief. "We… we shouldn't be worrying about this now, don't you agree? There's a great many things you need to attend to—and I… well, ah—" he droned on his words, looking for an excuse.

Hilda lent him a kind expression in agreement. Brushing a strand of his deep-violet hair from his eyes—Hilda said, "I think you've earned a well-deserved nap." Ravio blushed a bit, laughing softly in return. They both stood, walking to the library's exit. Entering the hall, Hilda was to take the left route, and Ravio was to take the right. Before they parted ways for the day, however, the princess paused for a moment in thought. She turned back around. "Ravio?"

He looked over to her. "Yes, Your Grace?"

"Will you perhaps," she paused, unsure if she had the right to ask anything of him anymore, "ah…" She looked down at the dark purple carpet.

He looked at her curiously, giving the princess his respect and attention. "Hm?"

Despite their stressful day thus far, Hilda could not help having enjoyed this time together. In fact, Hilda missed it more than she realized. Perhaps a tad bashful, she was soft to ask, "Will you come visit me again tomorrow?"

Her question caught him a tad off guard, but he was quick to nod frantically none-the-less. "Of course I will!"

She gave a soft smile, feeling relieved. Pushing her luck, she thought it safe to ask, "Then perhaps, the day after that as well?"

Ravio winked and put his pointer finger up in confirmation. "And even the day after that, and the day after that."

The princess was filled with a sort of relief and joy. One she had not felt in a while. "Wonderful," Hilda said, "It'll be… just like it used to."

He gave a small and joyous giggle. "Exactly like that!"

The two stood there for a moment, looking at each other, seeing their imperfections perhaps now more than ever—not even caring about whatever flaws and fears overwhelmed them. Again, the sovereign was quiet and timid—almost hesitant to speak one last time. "And, Ravio?" she finally said.

He tilted his head to the side. "Yes?"

"I meant what I told you, earlier," Hilda said seriously now. "There is not a thing you should fear anymore."

Ravio blinked. Reassuring his princess in any way he could, he gave a weak laugh. "Of course. I believe you, Your Royal Highness."

But seeing through that smile he wore, Hilda could only shake her head. "Then do not fear mark on your hand." Slowly, Hilda bowed her head to him in the ever slightest. It was something she'd rarely done in her life. "No harm shall ever come to you ever again." Putting a hand to her heart, she pledged, "I promise, dear Ravio."

He was quiet for a moment, eyes reflecting with the image of his beautiful princess. He looked a tad stunned. Despite the disagreement in the back of his mind, he tried his hardest to embrace this belief. It was after a moment, but Ravio nodded. "Of course, Princess Hilda," he said in return, "With you around, there's not any place I feel safer."

And his words were sincere. He knew first hand of the guardian she was. She was was the one who always saved him.


	6. Chapter 6

Radiance

It'll be just like it use to.

"May I ask what's on your mind, Your Royal Highness?" Slightly teasing in his tone, Ravio made light of Hilda's transfixed state—she had been staring off into the distance. He waved a hand in front of her face, she snapped from her aforementioned daze, looking to the bunny-hooded boy. "You've been staring into space for a good five minutes straight now."

Taken from her memories, Hilda was soon in returning to reality. It was the day after she'd last seen Ravio, for as he had promised, he'd come back to visit her. Though unlike yesterday, Hilda requested his presence in the Sacred Realm, for there was much there they still needed to discuss. And for now, she'd like these matters to stay between the two of them… in a place, just for them. "Ah, it's nothing important." Hilda said casually, brushing off whatever thoughts that yet-lingered in her mind. Immediate to turn the subject, Hilda decided to have a little fun with him. "And how would you know how long I've been away? Have you been staring at me, all the while?"

Turning pink, he waved his hands frantically, sputtering to compose some sort of excuse. "W-Well…! I-I mean—!" He swallowed hard. "T-There's, ah… There not much  _else_  to look at here, is there? 'Couple a broken pillars, some dirt. Nothin' ta see here  _besides_  you, y'know?" He laughed uncomfortably, hoping she'd pay no mind to the golden power right behind them. Hilda laughed on the contrary, however.

"Ah—so you're saying the Triforce's beauty is no comparison to mine?"

Practically in a tizzy at this point, he turned a brighter shade of red. Laughing like an idiot, he stumbled over his words for an excuse yet again. "W-Well—! I—! That's j-just entirel—!" To which Hilda laughed once more (and Sheerow did the same, at his hopeless owners expense.)

"Relax, Ravio. I'm just teasing you." She waved her hand, walking past him and towards the Triforce. "I know there's not a thing you'd admire more than the Triforce."

Feeling his heartbeat slow, Ravio exhaled—but also in hearing Hilda's words, he gave an almost inaudible laugh. "Speak for yourself, Princess Hilda," he thought, entirely silent.

"Regardless… this place has changed so much, from the first time we met here," Hilda continued. Ever since the day they'd met, the Sacred Realm had been a very special kind of sanctuary, for both Hilda and Ravio, even as it once was without the Trifoce. She looked over her shoulder. "Wouldn't you say?"

Ravio laughed a bit, rubbing the back of his head. "You remember that?"

"It's not something I could easily forget," she replied happily. "Could you?"

"I could not," Ravio shook his head. "I have a feeling it's something I'll remember for the rest of my life."

The two were quiet for a moment, soon finding themselves lost in memories of long ago. If they were to tell anyone of their first meeting, of that day—the idea might very well seem sorrowful to an outsider. A memory better forgotten than remembered. However, for Hilda and Ravio, it was quite the opposite. While it wasn't a happy memory, exactly, it  _was_  a hopeful. Their first meeting was certainly one that they'd always treasure, regardless of its circumstances.

Hilda put a gentle had to her heart. She spoke fondly of him, getting lost in the vivid images of long ago. "As will I," she said. "You made me smile when nothing else could."

* * *

"Princess!"

It had been a long day, and an even longer week. It seemed like ages from an adult's stand-point, so through the eyes of a little girl—it was nothing less than a wakeless nightmare. It was painful a way that she could hardly comprehend. Lorule's queen—Hilda's mother, had passed away only a few days before. To say that baring the burden of a dying land took a toll on Her Highness was an understatement. It was hard to live, as her land perished too. It was the day of Queen Lorule's funeral, and all who were still loyal in their land had come to mourn the death of the her now-faded light. That is, save for the exception of one little girl.

"Princess, where are you?!"

"Princess Hilda!"

"Where could she be?! We must find her!"

A small girl with shoulder length hair sat in front of a cracked slab, the one towards the edge of Lorule's Sacred Realm. She was by herself, and lonelier than she'd ever felt. The little girl sobbed into her hands, curled up with her legs to her chest. No older than five years of age, this was Lorule's young princess, Hilda.

Naturally, everyone was looking for her. The king had commanded his subjects to search the castle till she was found. But such a task was next to impossible, when she was tucked away in a sanctuary that only she knew of. Well, only her _now_. It was not always like this, for it was a little get-away she use to come to with her mother at her side. That was in the past now, however. It was no more.

Hilda though it there no better place to be than here. Her mother'd told her she suspected the Sacred Realm would be "very important" to Hilda, one day. The queen also said that beyond the cracked slab was a world of perfection and beauty; the most pure kind of place. So surely, if her mother died, that's where she would have gone, right? To the most perfect kind of place?

"Mama," muttered the lost little girl, "please, come back." Hilda spoke to the stone structure, as though someone was actually listening from the other side. Her words were innocent, albiet broken, but as hopeful as a young child's could be. "You're the person who took care of me and made me happy. You were never mean, or scary. You were the only person who ever made me smile. A-and… and now," The little girl lost her brief composure once again, covering her hands in her face. In the massive world of pain and despair that Lorule already was—Hilda'd lost her only light. "Now you're gone forever! Who's gonna take care of me, Mama!?"

Who's gonna make me smile?

"Someone, please…" her little voice echoed, "help me."

* * *

"Master Smith, I thought we were here to meet the queen in the morning?" asked a young boy, wearing an adorable pair of purple bunny ears. Around his neck was a scarf, three sizes too large. "Why's everyone just standin' around?"

"Ravio, we're here to mourn the queen," corrected the adult who stood at his side. "Now hush, Child," he said, "We can't continue till the princess is found."

"Well why she go runnin' off?" he crossed his arms. "Doesn't she wanna be here for her mama's funeral?"

"I said be quiet, Ravio," snapped the Master Smith now. He shushed him, putting a finger to his lips. Displeased, the little boy slumped in his seat, crossing his arms with a "hmph". Though it wasn't long before Ravio again opened his mouth to ask some question or another, but he was silenced, however, in hearing a voice this time. It was a tone that'd only ring in  _his_  ears. It was a sad voice, a little girl's voice. A voice that called out only to him.

"Someone please,  _help me."_

Ravio perked up in his seat. Unsure of whom he was talking to, he raised an eyebrow. "Help you?" he said, somewhat loudly. "Who are you? What do you need help with?"

"I feel so alone without you," the voice called back again. They sounded so sad.

"Without… me?" Ravio asked quickly, loudly. "Well, okay! Where are you?"

Interrupting Ravio's seemingly one-sided conversation, the Master Smith demanded, "Be quiet this instant, Ravio!"

"I-I'm… I'm here," she replied.

Ravio was mixed up between the voice in his head, and the one scolding him. Frantic, he said, "But—but that girl!"

The Master Smith looked at Ravio as though he was crazy. Frustrated, he said, "Enough of your games, Ravio. This is your last chance. I won't tell you again." To which Ravio was displeased. He gave an annoyed glance to the Master Smith, then crossing his arms once more and puffing out his cheeks. Though just as he did, he heard the weak voice once again.

Now seeming as though she were actually responding to him, this little voice asked, "Can you hear me? Where are you?" She paused for a moment. "Are you with her?"

"With… who?" Ravio could only think, not daring to speak out against his guardian again.

When no words were spoken to her again, the little girl did not fade out. Sounding sadder than ever, she could only ask, "Please, don't let me be alone."

Feeling empathy for perhaps the first time in his young life (though he didn't quite realize,) little Ravio paused for a moment. He spoke to her once more; softly, almost inaudibly. "I… I won't," he said in determination. The little violet-haired boy glanced over to the Master Smith, making sure he looked the other way. Casually, Ravio slipped out of his seat, making his get-away. Being so young, so small—it was easy to leave the crowd unnoticed.

Ravio had no idea who it was that was calling out to him, or what she wanted—or where she even was. In hearing her voice, however, he felt the strangest sensation run through him. It was something his young heart could not ignore. Soon wandering the back halls of an empty Lorule castle, he again asked, "Where are you?" as he run wherever his tiny feet led him.

"I'm here," she said once more. "Do you know where my mama is?"

Perplexed by her question, he could only answer honestly. "Nuh-uh."

"I'm so lonely without her," said the girl. It sounded as though she could break out in tears, or perhaps she already had. Which Ravio didn't like the sound of, naturally.

"Don't worry!" He jogged the slightest bit faster. "I'm coming!" he said, as though he actually knew where she was.

She didn't respond for a few moments, before speaking in a yet-solemn voice—but despite her tone, this girl's words were more directed now than they had been yet. "Who are you?"

"Oh, me? I'm Ravio!" he called back. "Who are you?"

"I'm… I'm," she seemed hesitant. But finally, she said the name Ravio would not forget for the rest of his life. "I'm Hilda."

Despite having no idea where the voice'd come from, he now seemed to know where he was going. Ravio trailed through the empty halls of Lorule Castle. It was dark, it was dreary, but for what might have been the first time, in his young life, Ravio wasn't scared at all. He could only think of the little girl calling out to him. Her voice was comforting, if not sorrowful at the same time. It only seemed to further his guidance.

He came to a wall—seemingly solid as though nothing could pass through. Though despite realizing this—for some reason, Ravio's instincts told him otherwise. Slowly, he reached out, trying to place a hand on the structure. When he did, his palm went right through. Despite the paranormal happening, he could only grin, just knowing it was a good sign. Without hesitation, he stepped past the false barrier, coming to a long and open path lined broken pillars. At the end of it looked to be a large stone. In front of it was a small figure curled up. He heard soft sobs. Ravio knew that very instant—she was the girl who called to him.

Alarmed at the sound of footsteps, Hilda turned. Instantly defensive, she rose, taking a few steps back. She eyed the strange boy over. He wore a purple outfit, complete with a floppy pair of bunny ears. Around his neck was a scarf, doubled up, being about three sizes too large. She looked a bit frightened by him, if not lost and confused. Though, despite her less-than-welcoming demeanor, Ravio could only grin bright and happily. "Were you the one who was callin' to me?" he asked.

Hilda felt her guard lower, hearing his voice. It was the same voice from moments before. Still sniffling and huffy, she paused for a moment. "W-Were you the one who answered me?"

Ravio nodded excitedly. It was her! "What are ya' doin' here?" he asked Hilda, stepping towards her.

Though she was quiet again, feeling tears well in her eyes once more. "I'm looking for my mommy," she eventually replied.

"Is she here?" he asked innocently, as he saw no one else.

Hilda turned toward the cracked plate in front of her. "I think she's there."

Ravio put his hands to his hips. "That's just a big rock, silly," he replied in such a matter-of-fact tone.

"It is not!" said the little girl, defensively. "She told me it leads to a perfect place! Where everything wonderful—like it isn't _here_!"

"Okay, okay," Ravio waved his hands in reply, hoping to console her a bit. Innocently, he continued his interrogation. "Why would your mama be there?"

Hilda was quiet for a few moments. It was hard for a child to understand, but Hilda explained in the only way she could. "'Cause she isn't  _here_  anymore. She left," Hilda paused, "for good." Suddenly understanding, Ravio assumed it was safe to conclude who this little girl was.

"You're the princess everyone's lookin' for!" To which Hilda didn't respond. She only turned away, curling up in front of the plate once more. After looking at it for a few moments longer, drops streamed down her cheeks, and she cried softly. "H-Hey," Ravio said, seeing her upset, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean ta make you cry."

Though, truthfully, _he_  wasn't the one who made her cry. It was the lonely truth and emptiness that the princess felt yet. Ravio reached over to her, but she flinched away—ready to lock her heart up, even at such a young age.

But, with Ravio there, that wasn't about to happen.

Soon baring a youthful, optimistic sort-of smile, Ravio asked kneeled in front of her. "Y'know what I do, when I'm sad?" he said. Hilda gazed up to the little bunny-hooded boy, through her teary eyes. She wore a sad, though interested expression. To which he perked up; he caught her attention, at least! "I like ta' sing and dance!" he explained.

Hilda tilted her head slightly. "Sing and… dance?" That was something that people still did? She'd never seen it, or done it herself. The castle was far too sorrowful for such trivial activities.

"Y'know, when you talk in different sounds! Like, this!" he chimed, speaking in a higher tone. Dropping octaves (as best he could), he added, "Or this!"

Hilda raised a judgmental eyebrow at the odd boy, and his strange mannerisms, though he didn't seem to notice. Continuing with his description, Ravio took the little girl's hands, pulling her to her feet. "H-Hey!" she protested, only wanting to continue in her prayers for her mother. "What are you doin—?!"

"And this is called dancing!" said the energetic child. Despite the princess's weak complaining, Ravio started twirling around with her.

"Stop it! You're weir—!" Hilda paused mid-sentence, suddenly feeling the sensation of the activity. It was new to her. She gave in after a moment, gradually copying his actions. And that wasn't the only thing she soon mimicked. Though it was faint, and despite the tears in her eyes—a small smile then spread across her tiny pink lips. After a few more moments of following his footsteps, Hilda let out a single giggle. This was… fun.

"Y'see! Isn't it great?" Ravio said, as she complied. "And it's even more fun when ya' sing at the same time!" He nodded. "I like singin' about happy things—or things that I want to happen!" Without warning, Ravio started serenading her in the silliest manner possible. "Maybe by tomorrow, the sun is gonna glow!~ Maybe by tomorrow, not gonna stub my toe!~" He giggled. At this point, Hilda couldn't contain herself from laughing softly at the boys funny, albeit nonsensical tune. She still sniffled a bit, but he was certainly right; it was enjoyable. "And maybe by tomorrow, the snow is gonna blow!~"

Hilda, still swaying with Ravio's clumsy dance steps, felt the tiniest bit happier with his song. It was after a moment—but the shy, young princess repeated after him. Her voice was timid, but somehow optimistic—very much in spite of everything she'd been through. "Maybe by tomorrow… the snow is gonna blow."

Ravio beamed. "There ya go!" Overjoyed, he twirled her in circles, and as though his mood was contagious—Hilda, too, couldn't help feeling delighted with the _one_  thing that was going right today. "You've got the hang of it!"

Despite her melancholic mood, one a child should never feel—this strange boy somehow managed to put a smile on her face. In such a dark time in her life, he treated her sorrow. It was still there; it still hurt immensely. But it was like a kiss on a wound; a temporary sedative. She said nothing, but held onto his hands yet.

"You're fun ta' sing and dance with!" Ravio told her.

Hilda smiled ever-slightly, rubbing away the tears in her eyes. "You… You are, too."

"Do you feel a little better?" he asked; she nodded. "Do you think you're ready to go back now?" To which Hilda didn't reply. Unsure of what that meant, Ravio asked, "Ooor… do you wanna play some more?"

Hearing the adult cries far off in the distance, Hilda felt a wave of sorrow pass over her once more. She looked over at the cracked plate once more, only to conclude, "We can go back now."

Sensing her yet-lowered mood, he asked, "Y'sure?"

Hilda nodded. But she then paused for a moment… growing more curious about the strange child in front of her. "You said your name was… Ravio, little boy?"

"Mmhm! I don't have a last name, so everyone just calls me Ravio the Bunny Rabbit."

"Bunny rabbit…" That was quite fitting, for such a strange boy. With his hands yet in hers, Hilda was meek to make a request. Perhaps it was a strange one, but she wasn't hesitant to ask, "Will you come back and make me smile again, tomorrow, Mr. Bunny Rabbit?"

Suddenly ecstatic with the idea, he beamed. Nodding up and down vigorously, he compiled, "That sounds like a great idea! Ah… but, I don't know if the Master Smith's gonna come back tomorrow." To which Hilda's expression fell to a frown. He then paused for a moment, however; thinking, tapping his little red shoe. "Oh!" Suddenly getting an idea, Ravio unraveled the long scarf from around his neck. Without warning, he brought it over Hilda's head, then doubling it. "There! Now I have a reason to come back tomorrow; to get my scarf!" he grinned. "But take good care of it though, okay? Mama made it for me!"

Innocently, she asked, "Will your mother be mad if I wear it?"

Ravio shook his head. "She won't know." Hilda looked a bit confused, as Ravio then pointed to the cracked plate in front of them. "You said you think your mama's there, right? Well, if your mama's there, I guess mine would be too." Hilda paused for a moment, starting to understand his meaning. She didn't know what to say. But Ravio, ever-cheerful, simply grinned at the little girl. "We should go back now, don't you think?"

The princess nodded. With Ravio again taking her hand, Hilda turned away from the large structure, and away from the small hope she'd have of seeing her mother again. Yet, Hilda did glance back over her shoulder one last time, and then to the boy beside her.

Her mother said this place would be very important in Hilda's life, one day. And for whatever reason, looking at the violet-haired next to her, she had no doubt that those words were true. While she certain did not have know it at the time, Hilda'd just found the brightest light of her life, before darkness hardly its chance to engulf her. She had found her radiance.

And so, just as planned, Ravio came to visit her again that next day. She returned his scarf. He sang to her, they danced, they played. After that, the duo soon found excuses to spend time together, as often as they could. And eventually, they hardly needed a reason at all. The only reason they needed was one another—the same reason Ravio joined her again, that present day.

* * *

He always came back to her.

And from then on, Ravio always had a way of making her smile, ever since they were kids. Hilda kept a loving hand to her chest, over her euphorically beating heart. Such fond memories and thoughts made her feel strange, though in a very thankful way.

"I'm just glad I was able to cheer you up," Ravio grinned. "Someone of your grace should never be without happiness."

"And I'm glad that's finally an option," Hilda returned his expression, "for both of us." The princess looked to the golden power in front of them. "Which brings me to why I brought you here today, Ravio."

Call him clairvoyant, but Ravio had a strange feeling that the Triforce might be involved in their meeting that afternoon. With a small laugh, he said, "And what's that?"

Hilda took a deep inhale. "Well, first off… I'd like your agreement to something," the princess started, "I'd like to keep the Triforce's existence a secret—just between you and I."

The young man tilted his head. Not wanting to question her reasoning, but curious if that was a wise idea, he asked, "But… how would we even be able to do so, Princess? Now that we're again under the protection of the Goddesses, I think… Lorule would be fairly aware of it's return."

"Yes, you're right," Hilda said, explaining further. "But… for now, just for now, I feel it's best that we keep its whereabouts a secret. We'll let the Goddesses have their hand at Lorule, but you and I shall not speak a word to anyone. For until we've again reached a time of strength, I don't want to risk losing our power to anyone who may seek it for the worse." Hilda gazed up at the triangles—almost in longing. "I want to keep the knowledge of the Triforce to those whom I know will not abuse it. And not just knowledge of it's existence, but… it's power."

Ravio raised an eyebrow. "Princess?"

"Ravio," she said, "do you know how the Triforce works?"

He nodded. "Whomever touches it shall have their any wish granted."

"Yes," said Hilda. Again, she eyed the holy power, before she turned away. Her Highness instead turned to the boy beside her. "With the Goddesses again caring for Lorule, our land will thrive again. It'll be slow, and sure. But we do not need the wish for our restoration. It's a blessing, all on it's own. We must save it for when we truly need it again. Do you understand what I'm saying, Ravio?"

"I…" Afraid that he did, Ravio remarked, "N-No?"

"I believe the wish should go to the Lorulean whom we have to thank for its very existence. As such, _I_  have no right to be the person to take it. It belongs to the person who deserves it. To the person with the purest heart, in all of our land." Reaching over, she put a soft hand to his chest. Over  _his_  heart. "It belongs to  _you,_  Ravio."

And wouldn't you know, all this talk of the heart had his racing at a mile a minute. Stunned, flattered, terrified, he hardly knew what to say. "Princess, I—" Hardly feeling worthy of such a gift, he didn't get the chance to reject it.

Hilda gave a coy smile, preemptively knowing what he was about to say. "Should I have my wish, I'd just wish you could have yours." Sly, Hilda.  _Very_  sly.

"And what if I wished the same?" He crossed his arms.

"Then I command you not to," she winked, though Ravio was anything but amused. He could only frown. Unsure if she was joking, there was no winning with her either way, was there? Regardless, she lent him a gentle expression. "Please, accept it, Ravio. I know you shall not waste it," she said. "What is it that you desire?"

He thought about it for a moment. His greatest desire. What  _would_  it even be? Something selfish, surely. All the Rupees in Lorule? Courage that could outshine Link's? Both were high on the list, yes. But then, as he glanced to the bright pair of crimson eyes in front of him—his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. He looked away, shielding his hair over his visage, as he then realized his answer.

"It's not something I can take. My greatest desire isn't something I want to happen upon a wish, regardless," he said earnestly, apologetically. "I'm sorry, Your Highness."

Hilda tilted her head to the side. Being stubborn as she was, she didn't like Ravio's answer. Regardless, she nodded. "Well," Hilda removed her hand. "Perhaps you'll change your mind, one day." Looking back to the Triforce, Her Highness said, "The wish shall remain yours, whether you use it or not."

"But, Your Highnes—!"

"I've made my decision, Ravio," she smiled at the boy, seeming to enjoy her power over him.

Ravio gave a low grumble. Silently, he cursed himself for always doing whatever Hilda wanted, concluding with a sigh. "Whatever you say, my princess," he said, though thinking exactly the opposite. Regardless, she seemed convinced, Hilda gave a small giggle. Such a sound made him feel a little better, at least. Stepping at her side, he inquired, "But, if you don't mind my asking, Your Highness—what would  _your_  wish be?"

She thought about it. Really… there was hardly a thing Hilda desired, that didn't already have. "I can't say for sure." Regardless, turning to him, she did voice the one desire she had in her heart, at that moment. It was one she'd gotten lost in the memory of, just moments before. "Though… I  _do_  wish you'd sing and dance with me again."

Ravio's face lit up. "Well that's a wish you don't need the Triforce to have granted!" Gaining a gentlemanly posture, he stood up straight. Bowing to her, he then held out her hand. Speaking in an over-exaggerated regal voice, he asked, "May I have this dance, Your Royal Highness?"

Hilda giggled softly, gazing down at the soft bunny hood in front of her. Of course he would offer, right then and there. Playing along, she curtsied to him and said, "It'd be an honor, Sir Bunny Rabbit." Hilda reached over, placing her hand in his. "Sing your favorite song for me, won't you?"

Then just like that, it was though they were children once again. Talking her hold, Ravio was gentle though cheerful in leading her in her request. "Maybe by tomorrow, the sun is gonna glow~"

"It's bright today, wouldn't you say?"

Grinning, he nodded. "Maybe by tomorrow, not gonna stub my toe~"

"I wouldn't cross your fingers on that one," she winked at him, knowing his track record of clumsiness.

He chuckled, just as amused Hilda. He twirled with her the slightest bit faster. "Maybe by tomorrow… the snow is gonna blow?~"

"It's a little early for snow in late summer. Don't you think?" she laughed, following his lead. Her steps were eager, they were bright. Everything about her seemed hopeful. Hilda was always more beautiful when she was happy. He longed for her happiness. And while Ravio loved every side of Hilda's personality, he had to say, this was his very favorite. He loved it. And that was because, he loved her.

Truly, his greatest wish  _was_  her happiness.

"And, maybe by tomorrow…" Stopping in his tracks, the boy gazed at her, almost lost in his feelings for her. He was caught up in his dedication, his love, his ardent feelings—all for his princess. His heart beat fast, but dared to say the last verse of his song; those words he always  _wanted_  to say to her. The sovereign tilted her head to the side, curious to his actions—with his continued singing of a song Hilda long-thought she knew by heart. Before she could ask about it, however, Ravio voiced to her those few words he never had.

"I'll have let you know."


	7. Chapter 7

Forever

"And maybe by tomorrow… I'll have let you know." Ravio gazed upon his princess, feeling his own heart beat fast. Looking back to him, Hilda only raised an eyebrow. He was acting strange. Again.

"You'll have… let me know?" she repeated, rather befuddled. "Let me know what?"

Ravio held his breath, looking down at her, feeling his chest get tight. "I-I'll have…" He stopped, unable to voice his thoughts.

Despite being timid, Ravio wanted so much to answer her—to divulge the secret he'd kept from her, all these years. He always had. Lying to Hilda was hard enough—but it hurt even more given this particular notion. He longed to tell her the truth behind his undying loyalty, but that was long and far from possible.

It wasn't that he thought Hilda was incapable of feeling the same. In fact, he sometimes  _feared_  she'd come to return his feelings, one day. Because, if that ever happened, it'd only end in sadness. It'd hurt them _both._ For Hilda was a princess, and she deserved a  _hero._ A hero: something Ravio would never be. As much as he yearned to be with Her Highness, he'd never allow Hilda to have anything less than a champion. He'd long since come to realize that—being who he was, it was never to happen. He was not fit for a princess to love.

Lightly, he let go of her hands. Instantly regretting he ever spoke, Ravio tried to play it off. "It's nothing, Your Grace."

But Hilda, being her stubborn self, wasn't about to take that answer. Again, she asked, "You let me know  _what,_  Ravio?"

Now laughing uncomfortably, he put a single palm up. "I-I… I said was nothing."

She put her hands on her hips. "You tell me right now."

"But—"

"Now!"

Trying to think of some excuse, he stammered over his words. Should he lie to her? Yeah, probably. But—wait. Instead, he got a brilliant idea. An idea where he'd neither lie, nor tell her his feelings. Cheerfully, he put one finger in the air. Speaking in a sort of sing song tone like before, he said, "Maybe by tomorrow, I'll have let you known my wish."

Hilda eyed him up and down, unsure if she was satisfied with his answer. Regardless, she sighed, turning away and walking back down the path from where they'd entered. "Then I guess I'll figure out eventually." Ravio could almost  _hear_  the sly smile she wore. "You always tell me anyway."

Ravio took her statement like a mental punch in the gut. He looked back to the Triforce, as it loomed over his tiny figure, almost taunting him.

* * *

As Hilda had mentioned, Lorule's path to revitalization was a long one. Days passed, merging into weeks. All seemed well in in their land for that while, albeit still in the earliest stages of recovery. Today, Ravio and Hilda sat in a dark and dreary room. It wreaked heavily, it was the scent of paint and linseed oil. Across from them was a portrait of whom this room had once belonged to, Yuga. Ravio didn't quite understand why they had to be _there_ , of all places, but he went along with whatever Her Highness asked as usual.

"Ravio, I've been considering starting a charity fund for—" Hilda started, leaning toward to the boy next to her. Actually looking over to him, however, Hilda then grumbled a bit. Silent and without a worry, Ravio'd fallen asleep with his head on the desk. He wore an abnormally goofy smile, as he always did when asleep. Sighing, she put a gloved palm on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. Sheerow, hovering above Ravio, pecked at the top of his owners head as well. "Wake up, Ravio," Hilda sighed, "I didn't call you here to sleep."

Stirring a bit, he opened his eyes. He paused for a moment, seeing Hilda looming over him. Instantly, his cheeks turned pink, and he sat up straight. "I-I'm awake!"

Hilda leaned on her elbow on the table, resting her chin in her palm. Lending him a sly smile, she asked, "Did you have a nice nap?"

Guilty, he laughed in discomfort. Scratching the side of his face with his pointer finger, he said, "I-I'm sorry, Your Grace." It was hard to stay awake with Hilda just rambling off all her plans for Lorule. Not that he wasn't interested, of course!

"It's alright," the princess told him. Again, back to business, she said, "I've been considering starting a charity funds for these causes." She motioned to the paper in front of her. "What's your opinion on the matter?"

Dully, he rubbed his eyes and looked down. As always, he simply nodded, seeing nothing wrong with her suggestions. He could not help but wonder why she insisted running all of them by him first—asking his opinion on matter to matter. Surely, his say was not more important that anyone else's. "I think that's a wonderful idea, Your Highness."

Questioning her plans yet again, Hilda only frowned a bit. "But, are you sure?" she shuffled through the stacks in front of her, "Do you think our first fund should go toward the children in Thieves Town? Or should we focus more on constructive causes before we—"

"Princess Hilda," he interrupted, giving a weak laugh. "Why do you keep second guessing yourself?" Hilda was silent, looking guilty now, herself. But Ravio didn't need an answer, to know why. Leaning over, he lent her a kind and cheerful expression. "Your heart's in the right place," he said. "The decisions you make won't have a poor effect on Lorule."

His words were kind, they put a smile on Hilda's face. "You're right," she tried to tell herself, sitting up straight. He grinned in return.

She was silent for a moment, gazing upon Ravio's bright expression. She stood, shifting her view—looking out the muggy window pane before her. It was raining today, but the sun seemed to shine yet. "You know," said Hilda eventually, "when I start to question my choices," —her supposed wisdom, even, "I keep finding myself asking, 'What would Princess Zelda do?'" She glanced at her own glove, concealing the mark of the of her yet-dull Triforce. She thought of her lighter half, of her bright smiling face.

Ravio was taken slightly off guard with Hilda' statement, though he looked down at his own mark. "Funny," he started, then gazing to the his little feathered friend. With his pointer finger, Ravio pet the top of Sheerow's head. "In almost anything I do, I find myself asking "I wonder how Link would handle this?'"

Turning to him, Hilda looked down at Ravio's hand. He felt uneasy any time she did, though he didn't flinch away. "Tell me, Ravio," she asked, "has your mark of the Triforce changed at all?" Looking down, seeing it yet vacant, the boy shook his head. "I see." Gazing away, Hilda sneered towards the portrait of Yuga—then stepping to the bookshelf across the room. Seeming almost hesitant, though determined none-the-less, she took a worn, leather book from the shelf. "Ravio?" she finally said once more.

Curious with her actions, and what the little brown book was, he replied, "Yes?"

"There's actually another reason, I wanted you here with me today." Again, Hilda sat next to him. Taking a deep breath, she sat the item on the table. "When I was in here yesterday… I found this."

He raised an eyebrow. "A book?"

"A journal," she corrected, " _Yuga's_  journal." To which he could only blink. Well, that explained why they were in Yuga's office, he supposed, but Ravio was slightly confused with what this had to do with him. "I though… perhaps it could tell us more about the Triforce," she then explained.

He paused for a moment, anxiety creeping up in his mind. "I see."

"We think Yuga had a shard of the Triforce," she explained, "What if he knew more about it than we do now? As we are, we only know of what the legends told us. Clearly," she paused, remembering all the evil actions and plans he put into motion, "Yuga knew so much more."

Alert to Her Highness's emotions, Ravio could see the mixed emotions welling inside her. Taking in a deep breath, he psyched himself up. Putting on a hopeful grin for her, he said, "Well, I guess there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

Hilda paused for a moment. "But, you see," she looked away, "For some reason, I still feel… reluctant, to do so." Hilda didn't have to say her meaning for Ravio to understand yet. She was afraid to find out the truth of Yuga's trickery—the real life he'd been living right under her nose. Hilda was scared to read it.

With a gentle smile, Ravio offered, "Would you prefer I do it, Your Highness?" There was hardly a thing Yuga could say, that Ravio did not already suspect.

Hilda, so relieved, looked back to him with a hopeful expression. "Would you, please?" she clasped her hands together.

Ravio, happy to oblige her, nodded and took the object in hand, opening it. It wreaked of the overwhelming scent of pigment and regret. Just at that, Hilda turned her head away.

Silently, the boy read through the entries one at a time. There wasn't much to find on what they were initially looking for, though, there was much else, Ravio soon learned. As he did, Ravio would frown, or grow angered, or perhaps even wince as he read on. He seeming nearly pained by what he had learned, or rather, confirmed to be true.

Hilda's hair stood on end all the while. "What is it?" the princess would ask, only to receive a dismissive response in return. More than once, she was tempted to tear the journal out of his hands and read for herself the lies she'd been told.

"It's alright, Princess Hilda," he'd tell her, putting a comforting palm upon her shoulder. "Put your heart at rest." Because really—what would truths of a tragic past bring her? If she were ever to look forward, Hilda did not need to learn of these vile words. That is what he believed.

But such resolve and protection of his princess was soon to fall to conflict. As, on the very last page, there was one vile truth he did not have the right to keep from her.

"The day is growing closer, my dear dark princess has yet to suspect a thing. What a fool she is," Ravio read on in his mind. As he did, he felt rage building up his usually timid heart. He held back his every urge to tear the book to shreds. "When we take Hyrule's Triforce, I shall defeat their hero with the power Ganon and I share. After that, the hero of our land would surely show himself. His blood shall be shed just the same." Ravio felt his heart beat fast yet; he sweated slightly, reading his barely-escaped fate. "After that," Ravio dug his dull nails in the journal, gripping it hard. "Our beautiful princess shall suffer the same fate as her mother," Suddenly, reading the last phrase, he let out an inaudible gasp. His eyes soon grew wide and glazed over with fear. A feeling pure shock and horror took over him. At that moment, he wished the journal would've stayed a secret forever, "at the same hand."

Hilda felt a sinking sensation in her stomach, noting his actions. "What is it, Ravio?" she dared to ask.

Growing aware, he snagged the book from the desk suddenly. In that less-than-convincing voice he always used, Ravio replied, "I-It's nothing, Your Highness!" He gave a weak smile, standing, holding the journal behind his back. Hilda was thoroughly convinced otherwise, however.

Unable to constrain herself anymore, she stood in front of him and demanded, "Tell me, Ravio." He shook his head, however, wincing at the same time. Seeing that look upon his face, Hilda couldn't take it any longer. In a swift motion, she reached behind his back. Feeling conflicted, not wanting to hide the truth from Hilda—but not wanting to cause her any more pain, Ravio did not know what to do. He only stood there, feeling sick to his stomach.

Giving into her temptation, she flipped to the final entry he'd been on. She read it over, putting a hand to her mouth—her expression growing more pained by the second. Her heart lunged quite particularly in reading on Yuga's plan to take Ravio's life, too, should he have succeeded as planned. While it was horrible, it didn't seem as horrible as she thought—that is, until she read the last line.

Soon mirroring her company, Hilda turned white as a sheet. "At the… same hand?" she muttered quietly, voice cracking as she did. But, her mother had died from an unknown illness in her sleep, had she not? Connecting the dots, Hilda's heart nearly stopped. That would have meant—?

Slowly, the princess lowered her head, letting her hand and the journal drift down to her side. She was quiet, not saying a word.

Anything but oblivious to her sinking desolation, Ravio only looked over to the girl beside him. He reached out his hand. "P-Princess?" he said, meek as a bunny, "Are… Are you alrigh—?"

Before he was able to comfort her at all—Ravio was cut off in finishing his sentence. Though he didn't need to, to know Hilda's answer. Swiftly, Hilda looked up, her red eyes glaring daggers at the portrait of Yuga across the room. Silently, radiating in anger, the princess threw the journal across the room. It came in brutal contact with the painting; the layer of glass shielding it shattered in a spider-web fashion, and soon fell to the floor in broken shards.

Ravio flinched at the sound, Sheerow hid behind his owners hood. Shocked, timid, and perhaps even guilty—he was nothing less than distressed like his princess. Hilda huffed in a fury, however, forgetting Ravio was there at all. Her damage wasn't good enough.

Her breathing was heavy as the princess took a few furious steps forward. Reaching down to grab a broken shard of glass, she clenched it tight in her hand. The princess slashed at the painted picture with the sharp edge, tearing it full down the middle.

Ravio became frantic, seeing blood seep from Hilda's fist, soaking her pristine white glove. In her rage, however, the princess didn't seem care, though Ravio certainly did.

"Princess Hilda!" he said, desperately. "Stop—you're hurting yourself!" While she heard him, she certainly didn't listen. She only clenched her teeth harder, tearing at the canvas full-force. "Please, Your Highness!" he begged with no avail. Without response (and while he'd never do so, on a normal day,) Ravio grabbed at her wrists, desperate to stop his princess's pain.

"Let go!" Hilda only struggled, slipping past his soft hold, continuing her meaningless revenge.

"Please, calm yourself, Princess Hilda!" he cried, trying to grab her hand once more. "Your Highness—!" he called, but it was of no use. Ravio's heart beat a mile a minute; he couldn't stand to see Hilda in such distress. What could he do?

Oh, Goddesses, what could he do?

Swiftly, Ravio reached over to her once more. Firmly, unlike before, he took Hilda's wrists in his hands. He was able to stop Hilda in her tracks. Bolder than he'd ever been, he then forced her to turn away from the tattered, broken frame. Ravio refused to let her continue.  _"Hilda."_

Her heart skipped a beat, in hearing her name. Or rather, in  _only_  hearing her name—not a title, not "Princess", or "Your Higness", it was just "Hilda." Suddenly growing aware, she looked straight at Ravio, seeing the look of pure distress—if not _fear_ upon his face. Even more than his words—Ravio's innocent, olive eyes begged her to cease.

Suddenly, she snapped back to reality, feeling dizzy that instant. Distressed and guilty, the princess found it hard to stand. She clenched her teeth, falling to her knees. Ravio mirrored her actions, kneeling in front of her—keeping his hands softly upon her shoulders in comfort. It was silent between the two of them for a few moments, though it felt like hours on end.

"Why?" Hilda asked softly, finally forcing herself to speak. Her voice was shaky, regretful, and scared. Hilda held the shard of glass in her now-open palm. She looked down at it, her torn glove, and her bloodied hand. "Why am I such a fool?"

Prompt in his reply, Ravio asked, "How could you have known Yuga would be behind such a thing?" thinking he was fair in his question. "You were just a child, Princess."

"But he's deceived me  _since_  then, hasn't he?" Hilda snapped. "I should've been fully aware of his actions. I was entirely capable of seeing past his façade. But instead," she gritted her teeth, "I was so naïve."

Ravio tried to reason with her, and make light of the reality. "You weren't the only one he deceived, Princess. He fooled us all," the boy said, honestly. To which his princess paused for a long moment. Hilda's greatest regret again begal looming over her, enveloping her—for the one who shared in that greatest regret, was also the person who sat right there before her.

"He didn't fool  _you._ "

Ravio inhaled soft and suddenly. He didn't know how to reply. Almost sounding guilty, he trailed off, "No. I… I just—" Hilda was silent—she needed to voice this regret, as it overwhelmed her  _now_  more than ever.

"Why—why didn't I listen to you, Ravio?" she asked, truly puzzled by her own actions. Her company was taken aback by this question, if not slightly alarmed all the while. That's what this was about? Hilda looked at the tattered journal as it lay there lifelessly on the floor.

"Why did I think Yuga would have my best intentions at heart, when  _you're_  the one who's always shown me what's right?" she grieved. Yuga'd done his worst to make her life hell, as it would turn out, ever since she was just a child. It was quiet between the two of them again, before Hilda asked the main question in her heart—the one thing that truly confused her yet. Her voice was soft, in a melancholic whisper.

"Why did  _you_  come back to me, Ravio?" Why didn't he just forget Lorule, and stay in Hyrule where everything was already what they wanted it to be? Almost angered by the fact, Hilda clenched the shard of glass tight in her palm, cutting her flesh even deeper yet. Ravio gasped at the very sight, perhaps even more pained by it than she had been. Then Hilda, sounding nothing less than furious at this point, was sharp in asking, "Why are you still loyal to someone with judgement as irrational as mine—someone who turned their back on you! Are you really that stupid, are you really that dull?!" she shouted, perhaps laughing in the back of her mind—as he was by far the wisest person she knew.

It was after a moment, but Ravio removed his hands from Her Highness's shoulders. Hilda felt a sort of emptiness in her heart as he did—one she also felt she deserved. Perhaps she had finally pushed him away.

But then, as she was so very unexpecting, the princess was alarmed in feeling his palm once more. He placed gently over her clenched fist this time.

"Perhaps you  _have_  made foolish decisions, Your Grace, but they've not been for the wrong reasons," he finally said. His voice was not sharp or angered, like any other's would have been. Instead it was soft and gentle, radiating with the greatest understanding. "I know your heart, Princess Hilda," he said, "and it's never in wrong place." Hilda looked at Ravio, who was gazing down at her hand—wanting so much to free her from her pain. "You wanted to save our land, and for that reason, more than anything, I could _never_  bring myself to hate you."

She paused. "Why can't you?" Hilda asked, almost wishing he could. His answer made the princess catch her breath, as she'd never quite realized the fact in consciousness.

"Because everything I've done—everything that I  _still_ do, I've done for you."

Taking advantage of her vulnerable moment, Ravio began ushering Hilda to loosen her grip on the broken shard of glass she clenched—removing her fingers, one at a time. As he did, he spoke to her; so comforting, so earnestly. "I came back because… because it hurt so much to leave," he finally said. "I didn't want to go in the first place. I was… I was so afraid I'd never see you again, Princess," he explained, "but I knew I had to do all in my power to stop Yuga," to  _save_ Hilda. He then glanced up, gazing delicate face. Hilda was taken aback, however, seeing an alarming sight—one she hadn't since they were children. A few tears glimmered in the corners of Ravio's eyes; he was crying, "even if that meant never seeing you again."

Choking up, she could only exhale his name, " _Ravio._ "

"I meant what I said that day, Your Grace. My loyalty is forever yours." Taking the broken piece of glass from Hilda's now-limp palm, he tossed the shard to the side. Speaking straight from his heart, Ravio told her the truth. "I came back because Lorule is my _home._  And that's because," he paused, unable to contain is fast-beating heart, "my home is wherever _you_ are, Princess, and my fate is just the same." Tears had long since lingered in the corners of Hilda's crimson eyes. They rained down her cheeks. "You could be the most foolish princess in all the universe, but," Gently, he held her mangled palm in both of his. It was a hold that could heal the deepest of wounds, or the largest of scars, "you are now, and will forever be,  _my_ princess."

Hilda was overwhelmed. While she didn't feel as though she was forgiven—for the first time since he'd come back, Hilda didn't feel as though she  _needed_ forgiveness. It was a sort of freeing sensation. His words made her heart flutter; the princess couldn't contain herself. She wrapped her arms around Ravio's neck, hugging him as tightly as she could. She cried soft and silently on his shoulder.

He was caught off guard, but lightly returned the gesture after a few moments. He place his arms around her waist, hugging her gently. His last statement left Hilda feeling more complete than she'd ever had; it made her feel as though she'd never be alone.

"You'll always be my Hilda."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Sorry I fell out of my update schedule, I was super busy the latter-half of April. Updates should resume as normal now!

Blooming Roses

With only a lantern in her hand, Hilda stepped down the dark, dreary hall. It took her through the endless maze of corridors that Lorule castle had to offer, though she knew exactly where she was going. It was to hall she'd walked a million times, but more frequently now, than ever in her life. Hilda'd been coming here the past few days, that is—since she'd found the truth of her mother's demise. The princess turned the corner, reaching her destination.

It was a hall of portraits; painting in memory of Lorule's late royal family. At the beginning of the showcase was a large painting, very close to Hilda's heart. The latest in line, the one of her mother.

Ever since she was a child, the princess always came here in the midst of the night. It was the only reason she'd gone so long, without forgetting her mother's face. Despite her disdain with the artist whom had painted it, Hilda was actually very fond of the portrait. The princess even prayed to hit quite often—as though her mother we're actually listening. While Hilda knew her words would never be acknowledged, that didn't stop her, even as she grew older as less naïve.

Her Grace kneeled before the still image, saying her regular night's greeting. She laced her fingers together, holding her hands at chest level. "Good evening, Mother," she said aloud the vacant space. "I'm feeling a bit better than the past few nights. I hope you're doing well, too, wherever you are."

Hilda gazed up in the deepest longing, feeling a familiar sort of emptiness. She admired the painting; her mother was so beautiful. The queen had pitch black hair, shining the faintest shade of purple. Her eyes were crimson just like Hilda's, and she radiated a sort of grace—even in the still image. If Hilda was a few years older, one might even confuse the picture to be a painting of her. Really, she was the spitting-image of her mother, her father often told her so.

"I almost told father today," Hilda said, somewhat abruptly, "about… what really happened to you." The corners of her lips twitched downwards to a frown. Recalling the state the queen's husband had been in, Hilda explained, "but his condition yet takes its toll." She lowered her head, apologetically. "I didn't wanna cause him anymore distress. I'm sorry, Mother."

Hilda's father'd been suffering for a very long time now, since Hilda was but a small child. At a later age, he'd married into royalty, and after his wife had died, he all but lost the will to live—much less, rule a crumbling kingdom on his own. With a deceased wife and a dying land, the only thing keeping him alive was his light in the dark, the princess of Lorule herself.

From a very young age, Hilda had done her part to lead Lorule through its turmoils. Desire to bring her father hope was part of what led her to make the desperate decisions she had. It was out of the dedication she had to her people, yes, but very much out of love for her father, too. Now that it was all over, Hilda had yet to feel that same burden lifted from her shoulders. In fact, it was heavier than ever.

"Even though Lorule's regaining it's prior state, Father's yet to regain his," Hilda explained, recalling the painful image of the queen's yet-bed-ridden husband. "I'm starting to feel unsure that our new fortune shall shine on him as well… though I do certainly hope so." Hilda glanced to the empty frame next to her mother's. It would inevitably case her father's image one day… though she prayed that was no day soon. Then feigning a smile, with a weak sort-of optimism, Hilda corrected herself. "I mean, I'm sure that's the case. I'm sure he'll be better soon. Lorule will once again be with its king. And then, I'll let father know…" Looking at the ground, Hilda zoned out, dreading this deed that she knew she had to do. "I'll let him know what really happened to you."

For a split second, Hilda again felt her anger rising. Her mind once more started filling with all the treacherous things Yuga could've done to Queen Lorule. All the pain he could have caused her—that he inevitably  _did._  The princess clenched her fists tight, yearning to destroy every remainder of Yuga that was left in the kingdom. Feeling the sting of the healing cuts on her palm, however, Hilda released her empty grasp.

The wounds on her hand reminded Hilda of the truth, of what she'd been so kindly told before. What was in the past was gone, and she could never hope to look to the future, if she continued to let it consume her.

"Mother," she said softly, "I'm… trying my hardest not to grieve and regret. I know that's what you'd want for me, I know that's what father will desire, too. And I know," Hilda paused, putting her hand over her heart, "Ravio wants that for me, as well." The princess recalled the traumatic incident a few days prior. She gazed down at her hand. She could almost feel Ravio's palm in her's once more.

"Ah—did I tell you?" Hilda perked up, looking back to the portrait of her mother suddenly, smiling as she did. "Ravio called me by my name the other day! Ah—just my name, I mean. I don't… I don't think anyone's ever done that. Besides you and father, of course." The princess paused, remembering the very tone of his voice.

_"Hilda."_

She thought of him, of his overly cheerful grin, of all the times he'd been there for her—even if she wasn't there for him. She thought of how he made her laugh, how he made her smile, of how kind he was, even if the world had all but driven him to the ground. She thought worlds of his loyalty, and of the person he was, and the person the Goddesses knew he could be. "Ravio… who would've thought?" Hilda spoke gently, a sort of euphoric smile on her face. "I think he'll make a fine hero." With a hopeful expression, she asked, "Don't you, Mother?"

Perhaps Ravio denied that part of himself, and of the fate the Goddesses had set forth for him, but Hilda truly believed that he could be just as amazing as Link, should he try his hardest. In her heart, Hilda already thought Ravio was as miraculous as his counterpart, though, in a very different way. Hilda knew he was anything but brave, of course—she understood that. But as she glanced down at her own palm, she flipped her hand, gazing at her own mark of the Triforce. She remembered the very fact she was trying to pursue, herself. People could change.

Ravio always encouraged Hilda, no matter how harsh the circumstances. He never stopped helping her be a better princess, and as of late was no exception. He had faith in her wisdom—that she'd come to fulfill the destiny the Goddesses had set for her. He was as loyal as a subject—as a _friend_  could be. Hilda only wished she could return the favor. She wanted to aid Ravio as he aided her—and not with just this, but so many things. Her thoughts trailed off, thinking of those very many things.

"Despite all that's happened in my life, Mother," Hilda spoke softly, "I feel… less alone than I ever have. It's such a strange feeling." With memories still lingering on her life-long friend, Hilda said, "When I'm with Ravio, everything hurts so much less. I think… I think it's always been that way, actually." Hilda paused, contemplating her feelings. "I've always thought he just had a way of leading me to reason, but now," with a certain fondness in her voice, she said, "he teaches me how to hope as well."

Hilda paused; her words seemed to spark a dull realization in the back of her mind. "Did… Did you have anyone like that in your life, Mother?" she asked, looking to the empty picture frame beside her. "Was it… Father?" she said, before asking timidly, "Was it the person you chose to be your king?"

Suddenly, almost unconsciously, Hilda remembered the sensation of Ravio's comforting embrace. It was unlike any she'd ever received. It was warm, it was safe. Hilda put a hand to her heart; her chest felt tight. Acknowledging the new sensation for the first time, Hilda swallowed hard. The princess felt her heart skip a beat, as she dared to ask the question looming over her head.

"Was it the person you fell in love with?"

Hilda wasn't oblivious to her feelings, or to herself. Yet, as of late, she couldn't help but question her heart at its core. She knew she'd always felt a very special fondness for Ravio—he was one of her dearest friends in the world. Ravio had always given her a reason to smile, even before Lorule was whole again. Daresay, he might've been the only optimism she'd ever known—but he certainly wasn't the kind of person she'd fall in  _love_  with.

Was he?

In the faint light, Hilda gazed down the hall of portraits; every queen was accompanied by their well-esteemed king. Men so regal and refined; heroes to the women they loved, and to a dying land. All her life, Hilda'd wondered who'd end up in the portrait aside her's. She imagined whomever it was to be strong, regal, refined, and nothing less than her own knight-in-shining-armor. So now, picturing Ravio in such a scene—Hilda could only laugh out loud.

The princess wasn't about to deny that he had his flaws. To start, he was probably the biggest Ruppee-pinching gold-digger she'd ever known. His understanding of what "proper-hygiene" entailed was a little less than precise, to say another. He was sarcastic, overly energetic, even a tad unconsciously rude at times—and perhaps his greatest downfall, of course, was his lacking bravery. Ravio was as cowardly as a rabbit. He was the _farthest_  thing from a knight-in-shining-armor. Yet, despite knowing such to be true, Hilda found herself smiling even wider than before. The more she thought, the faster her heart beat.

Perhaps he did have his downfalls, but Hilda realized—wouldn't have him any other way. She loved his goofy personality. She loved his energy, his sense of humor. That was just Ravio. That still made him anything but a knight, of course—yet, Hilda felt another alternative, deep in her heart.

Perhaps he wasn't a hero, but he  _could_  be. Even the Goddesses thought it to be true, and now… it seemed to make more sense than ever. "If he can find redemption in me," she gazed up to the portrait of her mother, a blissful smile on her expression, "then perhaps  _I_  can do the same."

Her cheek lit a soft hue of pink, like a blooming rose. "I want to help Ravio find the courage in himself," she said, then pausing for a long moment. "I _will_  help Ravio find the courage in himself." Her heart fluttered, with the words of her new-found resolve. "One day, I promise," she looked up to the dark ceiling, smiling all the while, "he'll be a hero."

All her life, Hilda'd wondered who would end up in the portrait beside her's—and suddenly, she'd come to realize the only image that fit perfectly. The image of that one person she could see at her side for an eternity—for he was one who'd always been there already. It was the image of a boy with dark purple hair, a blue-striped scarf, bunny ears, and the most cheerful smile in the world.

"He'll be  _my_  hero."


	9. Chapter 9

Gratitude

As the days passed, Hilda and Ravio started seeing less of one another. Not on their own will, necessarily, but the princess began getting busier and busier with her newly rising regal duties. Meetings to be attend, plans to make, papers to sign. Hilda wasn't exactly used to the typical lifestyle of a sovereign, to say the least, but she was doing well to learn her new-found duties in a punctual manner. It was a new weight on her shoulders, yes, but Hilda was happy to take on the responsibilities she'd been waiting for in all her years of living.

And what was Ravio doing?

"Man, this is the life." Enjoying the peaceful existence he'd never had the pleasure of knowing, either, Ravio laid back in the soft, blooming lawn just outside his house. Sheerow was curled up at his side, snoozing peacefully. "Don'cha think so, Buddy?" he asked. Agreeably, the tiny creature chirped sleepily.

With closed eyes, the young boy rested his arms behind his head. It was a beautiful day—blue skies, no longer fading from orange to gray. The once-dying grass beneath him was now patchy and green. Lorule really did feel like an entirely different world, from the last time he was here. With hardly anything else to do, Ravio turned on his side, then poking Sheerow with his pointer finger. The tiny creature twitched in annoyance, Ravio just giggled.

Anyone else might found his new life to be dull and unfulfilled—but Ravio was nothing less than entirely satisfied with his "retirement." Giving a contented sigh, he rested back once more—this time, with his ear to the ground. He heard nothing but the wind blowing through the trees and the sound of his own beating heart.

Ravio had always believed himself to be a tiny part of a world that was so much larger than he could ever image—and now, despite everything, he felt smaller than he ever had. Learning Lorule was just one half of another world, finding his  _own_  other-half in said world—Ravio thought of himself as nothing more than a little Maiamai, forever stuck on the under-side of a rock. But—in spite of everything, he'd come to learn, that really wasn't so bad. Even the smallest speck was still part of the world, and that little speck could help change its fate, should it really try, however unconventionally.

A certain dear friend of Ravio's was the one who helped him fully realize that.

"I wonder how Mr. Hero's doin'?" the boy ask aloud. "Bet he's happy ta have his place back to himself, y'know, with a bed ta sleep on a what not," he laughed. Again laying on his back, he said, "Well, wait. What am I talkin' about? He's probably livin' it up in the castle by now. Prolly a full-fledged knight or somethin' like that, y'know?" Ravio gave a sly sort of grin. "Bet Princess Zelda really has it in for him now—she prolly got him wrapped around her finger. But I mean, who wouldn't be? She sure was pretty—almost as pretty as Her Grace!" Ravio laughed, "He's probably just fine with that, though."

He paused for a moment. "I wonder if he's as head-over-heels for her, as I am for Hilda? Hm. Well, if he isn't now, then he's sure gonna be. Maybe I shoulda' gave him a warning or something?" He laughed, soon feeling a light sort of somberness. Ravio gave a weak smile. "Sure hope he gets his chance I never will." Ravio was quite for a moment before sitting up, gazing to the light-blue sky. Feeling a very fine mix of jealous, admiration, and optimism, he spoke softly, "The best of luck to you there, my good friend."

After staring at the clear, blue sky for a few moments longer, Ravio felt himself determined not to be melancholic on such a wonderful day. He stood; Sheerow did the same, rising from his sleepy state. Dusting himself off, Ravio gazed over his shoulder, past the top of his purple crystal house, he saw the familiar skyline of Lorule Castle. He gave a weak smile. "Sure wish we could go see Hilda today though!" he said, Sheerow cheeped in agreement.

But then, so very unexpecting, Ravio jumped and yelped slightly as he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. "Probably better ya' didn't there," said the person behind him. "Heard she's a pretty busy gal lately." Pivoting on his heel, Ravio was greeted with a familiar figure. One he'd certainly been dreading, yes, but was still overjoyed to see, none-the-less.

"Master Smith!" He gave a bright grin. Peeping cheerfully, Sheerow flailed in greeting as well.

"Ravio," he smiled.

Then realizing the situation, why the Master Smith must've been there at all, Ravio laughed uncomfortably. "It's, uh… it's been a while!"

"I'd say so," he replied, sounding almost scolding. To be fair, Ravio hadn't seen the blacksmith since before he left for Hyrule. He did consider visiting him and his wife, though, of course! But given a few very certain details, he was hesitant and unsuccessful to do so. "Back from your journey and you didn't even come check in with us?" The blacksmith said, giving a sigh, "Should've expected as much from an air-headed kid like you."

Ravio laughed uncomfortably, though a bit befuddled with the fact that he cared at all, but the Master Smith usually took whatever chance he had to scold him. Even if it wasn't meant to be, however—Ravio always thought the fact to be a loving gesture. He rubbed the back of his head. "Ah—yeah. Sorry 'bout that. I've actually been back for a while now," he admitted. He gave a weak smile, feeling like just as much of a burden to the Master Smith as he always had.

Ravio'd been acquainted with the Master Smith and his wife from a very young age. They were, more or less, the only family he knew—albeit not in blood relation. Ravio's parents were killed when he was still just a newborn baby, and while the blacksmith and his wife were less than wanting to take in a child, they were just about the only people left who were willing. The Master Smith had only taken him in under the impression that he might end up being a valuable apprentice one day, though, that never turned out to the be case. All his life, Ravio'd felt like a burden to them. Regardless, there was hardly anyone else he felt more grateful towards. He'd never find it in his heart not to love them as his family, even if they never felt the same.

"Well, no matter. You're here now, safe and sound," the Master Smith said in reply, patting the younger boy's shoulder as he did.

Ravio smiled wide, happy his lecture was cut short. Cheerfully, he pumped his fist up in the air. "Right!" he complied. Wow, the Master Smith sure seemed to be in a good mood today! Did that mean he was off the hook from, well, anything else immoral he might've done, too? But then, without removing his hand, the blacksmith gave a coy sort of smile.

"And did you happen to bring back all those items that I know you stole from my shop?"

To which Ravio's heart nearly stopped. There was a long, drawn out pause. A drop of sweat slid down the side of his now-pallid face. He dared not to show his fear—only grinning yet.

"Ha ha, I bet we sure have lots of catchin' up to do! How's the wife? How's the business? Make lots of weapons lately? Please don't strangle me—wow, bet you're thirsty! Let's go inside I'll get'cha somethin' ta drink!" He rambled. "Gee, it's great to see you!" Rushing past the older man, Ravio bolted inside with Sheerow in pursuit.

* * *

Ravio and the blacksmith sat at the boy's conveniently placed dining table in his otherwise train-wreck of a home. The younger sat quietly, entertaining an almost shameful look on his face. He dared not to speak, feeling his own demise approaching regardless. However, the blacksmith seemed nothing less than amused. Perhaps Ravio didn't notice in his fear, but the older man was even smiling.

"You know how rare some of those items were. You know how long it took me to get my hands on some of them," the blacksmith finally spoke, as Ravio had nothing to say for himself. The younger boy only nodded in guilt, knowing full-well the seriousness of the situation. "Are you going to tell me why you took them without my permission?" the blacksmith continued, to which Ravio winced, only able to shake his head "no." The blacksmith raised an eyebrow in return. "Then are you going to tell me _where_  they are?" Again, Ravio shook his head; the blacksmith sighed, "Can you at least tell me where you went, Ravio?" he finally asked, looking to him with crossed arms.

Ravio paused for a moment, again, shaking his head. He doubted the Master Smith would even believe him, should he tell the truth. The older man gazed at the younger with a judging stare. It wasn't but a moment before the Master Smith gave a long, drawn out sigh. He just nodded, much to Ravio's surprise. "Well, I'm sure you have your reasons," he said, sounding nothing less than understanding, "I know you wouldn't've done it otherwise."

Ravio blinked twice, nothing less than entirely bewildered. "You… you do?" he said in disbelief.

The Master Smith nodded again. "I won't pester you about it. If you want to tell me, you can. If not—I understand."

Blinking again, Ravio raised an eyebrow skeptically. That was it? No shouting? No punishment? Goddesses, what happened to the blacksmith while he was gone? It was rare, to say the least, for the Master Smith to be so understanding, but he almost seemed like an entirely different person. That, more than anything, only mad Ravio feel that much worse about the ordeal.

"I'm… I'm sorry," Ravio finally said; softly, earnestly. He looked down at his lap, zoning out. He closed his eyes, seeming entirely apologetic. "It was wrong of me, Master Smith."

Seeing the guilt Ravio still held, the older man put on a bright smile. "Then you can make it up to us by comin' back and visiting my wife and I again though! We were  _almost_  startin' to worry about ya'."

Ravio paused for a long moment, before swallowing hard. "A-actually, Master Smith…" he started, "I… I can pay you back in full." Ravio looked to he sack of Rupees across the room wanting to cry at the very thought of giving up the profit he'd made. He'd yet to decide where his proceeds would go—but he was hoping to help with other causes.

"No, no." The blacksmith shook his head. "There's no need. Keep whatever you have, you need it more than we do. "

He was surprised by the blacksmith's notion, but less-than inclined to argue over it. He blinked rather vacantly. "Are… Are you sure?" he asked, to which the Master Smith nodded, and then even  _smiled._ While Ravio was caught incredibly off guard by the blacksmith's hospitality and abnormally uncharacteristic mood, he returned the expression. "If you say so," he agreed.

"I do," he laughed. "I didn't come here today ta' take your money," he reiterated, "or to scold you."

While that was becoming increasingly apparent, Ravio could not help but feel the slightest twinge of surprise and anxiousness. "Then, why are you here?"

Reaching in his rucksack, the Master Smith told him, "I have a delivery."

He was surprised. "Huh?" Ravio tilted his head to the side. Releiving the younger boy of his curiosity, however, the blacksmith then took out what looked like a folded purple garment. He placed it on the table, in front of Ravio. "Uh," eyeing it, yet confused, he could only ask, "you brought me clothes?"

"It's a uniform," he explained, "and…" Then unfastening the harness strapped across his torso, the Master Smith grabbed the sword and sheath that he once carried on his back, placing the weapon in front of Ravio, too, "I brought  _this_  is for you, as well."

"H-huh?!" Ravio blurted once more, caught substantially more off-guard. Growing alarmed, he quickly asked, "W-what are _these_  for?!"

Simply, the blacksmith replied, "The Princess Hilda sent a letter to my wife and I, asking us ta' make 'em for you."

Making Ravio's heart skip  _yet another_  beat. Distressed at the very mention of Hilda's involvement, he immediately asked, "Wait—for what?!"

"She didn't mention," the blacksmith said—shrugging a little  _too_ casually.

"W-wait!" Ravio said hastily, "Wait, wait, wait! There's gotta be a reason!" The Master Smith only laughed, entertained with Ravio's frantic behavior. He frowned in frustration, however, less than amused on the contrary. This was no laughing matter! Regardless, he was given some relief as the Master Smith took out one more item. It was a letter adorning a purple seal that went easily recognized by Ravio. It was the symbol of Lorule's Royal family. Snatching it from the older man's hands in less than a second—Ravio tore it open, reading it at the speed of light.

* * *

Dearest Ravio,

I apologize for being unable to deliver these packages to you personally. My time has been scarce lately, as you know. I hope you'll find them to your liking regardless.

However, I'm sure you have many questions as to why these items are now in your possession. Please come to the castle tomorrow afternoon and I'll have your answers. Bring your new sword and wear the uniform the blacksmith's wife so kindly made for you. I'll be waiting for you in the south courtyard.

I look forward to seeing you again.

Love, Princess Hilda

* * *

Ravio put a hand to his forehead, resting his elbow on the table. "Oh Goddesses," he exhaled, practically hyperventilating at this point. What crazy ideas had she gotten into her head now—sending him uniform and _sword?_  Praying to the Goddesses he was connecting all the wrong dots, Ravio eyed the letter once more. His heart skipped a beat as he reread one particular line.

 _His_ new sword.

Ravio paused for a moment. Looking down at his gifts once more, really observing them for the first time, the boy was hit with a certain realization. "Wait," he said, " _You_  made this… for  _me_?" He pointed to himself; the older man nodded. Suddenly feeling an immense sort-of gratitude overwhelm him, Ravio paused. "Master Smith… I," he looked back up to the other, "I don't know what to say." He bowed his head a bit. Despite everything else he felt, Ravio could only smile in the most earnest gratitude. "Thank you…" he said, "thank you so much."

Noticing Ravio's behavior, the Master Smith was suddenly alert. Not about to let Ravio go thinking he'd gone soft, the older man cleared his throat. "W-Well—ah. It's not like I wanted to, real. But I couldn't just ignore a request from the princess or anything. Besides, if you should be thanking anyone, it's my wife. She was up all night finishing that tunic for you." Ravio glanced back down, seeing the garment. Taking it in hand, he held it up. It was fuchsia in color, much like his current robe. It came with a matching, pointed hat and black under-armor. All around, it seemed very familiar—and suddenly, Ravio realized why. It looked nearly identical to the one that Link wore.

Ravio was quite for a moment before, still gazing away. Suddenly, he started to realize why the blacksmith was acting so different, why he had such an immense change of heart. Ravio understood why him and his wife'd made him such wonderful gifts. "A few weeks ago," he started, giving a coy sort-of smile, "you guys met another boy who wore somethin' like this—didn't you?"

With a laugh, he replied, "How did'ja know?"

"Ah—he's," Ravio paused, thinking on his time with Link. Though it was only for a short while, they were happy, warm, and fond memories. "He's a good buddy of mine."

"Really? You're a lucky fellow then," said the blacksmith, "He's quite the guy!"

With a very fine mix of jealousy and admiration stirring in himself once more, Ravio looked down at the purple garments and paused. "Yeah," he replied, sounding almost sad, "he really is."

"Y'know," the blacksmith smiled at the boy from across the table, "doesn't really surprise me him and you'd get along," he said. "He kinda reminded us of you."

Ravio perked up a bit, then laughing uncomfortably. "Y'think so?" he scratched the side of his cheek with his pointer finger, "Yeah, we uh… we kinda look alike, don't we?"

"Well, yer near identical I'd say!" the blacksmith laughed once more. Shaking his head, he added, "But that wasn't why."

Ravio raised an eyebrow. "Huh?" he said once again.

The Master Smith paused. Then sounding more sincere than Ravio might have ever heard him, he explained, "I made him a sword, ya see. The best sword I've ever made, I gotta say." He gave a warm smile. "Really helped me remember how much I love smithin', y'know?" He was quite for another moment. "Helped reminded me a the good in myself… helped remind us a' the good in everyone," and then, as Ravio was so very unexpecting yet, he placed a hand on the younger boy's shoulder, "kinda like  _you."_

Ravio blinked, feeling almost bewildered as he caught his meaning. The Master Smith really thought that about him? Despite all the trouble—all the inconvenience he'd ever caused him and his wife, he really thought that he was like Link, in that sense? He thought was  _worth-while_?

After a moment, the fact sunk in. Again, Ravio looked to the Master Smith with a beyond-grateful smile. His compliment had meant more to Ravio than he'd ever explain, as he never in his life thought someone would  _actually_  think he and Link we're alike. "Thank you, Master Smith," he said once again. "I hope… I hope that'll always be the case."

"Eh, knowin' you," he winked at the younger boy, "I don't think it ever  _couldn't_  be." Ravio laughed bashfully at the comment, again rubbing the back of his head. With that, the blacksmith gave a kind smile and stood. "Anyway, it's gettin' late," he said, "I better be headin' back."

"Ah, tell your wife I said thanks for the tunic," Ravio said graciously.

"Come tell her yourself, one day soon," he replied.

"Ah, right," he laughed a bit, then pausing, "and—" looking to the weapon he'd otherwise dread, Ravio added, "thank you for the sword, Master Smith." He gave a kind smile. "I'll take good care of it."

The blacksmith laughed. "Yeah yeah," he replied, "just put it to good use with whatever silly scheme that princess has up her sleeve tomorrow." To which Ravio laughed awkwardly and nodded. Then turning away and waving, the Master Smith _ever-so-casually_  added, "And tell her you're in love with her already, while you're at it!" To which Ravio, quiet literally, fell out of his chair.

Regardless, picking himself up off the floor to the sound of the Master Smith's hardy, fading laughter, Ravio could only smile. He knew Link had a way of bringing out the best in people, but this was nothing less than a surprise, regardless. Probably the most wonderful surprise of his life, in fact, 'cause, y'know—he wasn't dead now or anything. That visit'd gone better than he ever could've even dreamed.

But then looking back to the items he dreaded so much, his happy expression faded slightly—to that of curiosity, to that of anxiety. Remembering the letter he'd read moments before, he groaned, daring to eye it over once again.

He hadn't seen Hilda for weeks, now she was just summoning him out of no where and sending him "gifts" at her own pleasure. He took the soft purple tunic in hand, only daring to gaze upon the sheathed sword. He then paused, looking down at his faded mark of the Triforce.

He gave a deep, inaudible sigh. With a small frown, and despite knowing full-well the answer, he asked, "What do you want from me, Princess Hilda?"


	10. Chapter 10

Unconditional Obedience

"Well… how do I look?" Ravio asked with a shaky voice, walking through a maze of low hedges. He gave a deep sigh, feeling like anyone but himself. On any other day, that might've been a good thing, but… geez, this wasn't him. This wasn't him at all. The sword on his waist felt like nothing more than a burden, it was heavy and awkward to carry. He fiddled with his long pointed hat; he tugged at the hem of his tunic. He felt next to naked without his bunny ears. —Sheerow wasn't helping either. In reply, the small creature let out of chirp-ish laugh. Ravio narrowed his eyes. "Thanks Pal," he said bitterly, glaring daggers at the miniature bird. He exhaled once more.

Oh, the things he did for Hilda.

Turning his attention to the reason he was walking through such an elaborate garden. Ravio called out, "Your Highness!" He was rather lost, having never been back here, in the south courtyard. Trotting through an arch adored with barren vines, he again called, "Are you here, Your Highness?"

Hearing his voice, Hilda perked up. "I am," she called back. She peeked around the corner of the pillar she'd been standing beside, catching sight of her company. Walking towards him, she subtly eyed Ravio up and down. As she did, her cheek turned the faintest shade pink.

He looked just as she imagined he would.

"Good afternoon, Princess," Ravio said formally, putting a hand to his chest—bowing before Her Highness as per usual. Raising his head a bit, he caught sight of her face for the first time that day. She looked abnormally tired, though she was smiling radiantly none-the-less.

"Good afternoon, Ravio," she soon replied, curtsying to him as well. Anything but timid or shy, Hilda was quick to say, "That uniform suits you perfectly." —Better than it would for any other in Lorule, in her royal opinion.

He paused for a moment, then rubbing the back of his head. He laughed awkwardly. "Y-Y'think so?" He tugged at its hem once more. "I dunno, I think I look… kinda silly."

"Well," Hilda laughed, "I do admit, it is strange to see you without your rabbit ears. But regardless," she smiled, "You look stunning, Ravio."

He blinked like an idiot for a moment, caught off guard by her kind words. With pink cheeks, he was quick to look away, and abruptly change the subject. "A-Ah—uhm… what was it that you wanted to discuss with me, Your Grace?"

"Ah, yes," she said. Then (only flustering him further), Hilda took his arm. Leading him down the path she'd been walking before, she told Ravio, "There's much we have to talk about."

"Your Highness?" he said, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. She giggled softly at his absent response. It sent shivers down his spine. He wasn't used to seeing Hilda in such a good—not that he didn't enjoy it, of course. Quite the opposite, in fact. Despite the anxiety he felt just adorning his current outfit, he found himself smiling sheepishly as well.

"First, I'd like to apologize for not keeping in touch as I'd like," she said, looking to him with her tired eyes. "I've had much to deal with, as you might imagine."

He shook his head frantically, waving his free hand. "That was nothing to be sorry about!" he laughed. "Think nothing of it, Your Highness."

She smiled. Somehow, she knew he wouldn't hold it against her. "Thank you for your understanding," she said formally.

"Of course." He just nodded graciously, adorning that silly smile she loved so much. He looked so radiant. Hilda had hardly seen a sight more beautiful, than him in that very moment. And she wondered if he might've thought the same.

"Ravio," she eventually said, "did you look in the mirror this morning?"

Well, were it any other morning, he wouldn't have bothered—but today was a little different. "I did."

"And what kind of person did you see?" she asked simply, to which he blinked in reply, almost caught off guard by her odd question. He paused for a moment, recalling himself fidgeting awkwardly in front of his mirror an hour before. Perhaps he did remind himself of someone else in the slightest—but surely that was only because he was dressed so similar to his courageous-half. It would be nothing else than insulting to Link, however, to actually say that. As such…

"I saw the same person I always see," he said, giving a weak smile. "Ravio the Bunny Rabbit!"

Questioning him even farther, Hilda continued, "And what kind of person is Ravio the Bunny Rabbit?"

The boy forced a laugh, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. "I think his name says it all," he muttered, knowing his answer wouldn't be one Hilda found satisfactory.

She frowned. Stopping in the middle of the path, the princess turned to him. She'd yet to let go of his arm, however. "Ravio," she said sternly, "why must you always talk down on yourself?"

"Would you prefer I lie to you, Your Grace?" he asked, totally serious in his tone of voice (ready to do so, should she say yes.)

Hilda exhaled for her hopeless subject. "I just wish you'd start seeing the person I see in you."

He frowned. Almost solemn, he asked, "Who else could you possibly see?"

"Ravio," said Hilda softly, removing her hand from his arm. It made him feel so incredibly lonely—but it was only for a moment, as Hilda then placed her gloved palm against his formally-pallid cheek. She urged him to turn his head towards her, and so he did. He looked to her, however unable to smile. "When I look at you…" she spoke softly, "I see a hero."

His heart practically leaped out of his chest at that point. Consciously reminding himself of the melancholic loneliness of moments before, he backed away from her hold. "T-Then your eyes deceive you, Your Highness!" he said desperately, daring to speak against Hilda's word. "I've told you, I'm not—!"

Annoyed by his uncharacteristic defiance, she only frowned. "—Tell me, then," she said firmly, "When you looked in the mirror this morning, did you not see at least the slightest reflection of Link?" He opened his mouth to object, but soon realized he could not. Even though it was just for superficial reasons, yes, he did see the slightest reminder of Link in himself. Hilda smirked, feeling victorious—to which he was utterly defeated, however unable to object. Ravio looked away, rather like a stubborn child.

"…Why am I here, Your Highness?" he eventually asked—feeling disrespectful to not look her in the eye as he spoke, but also finding it too difficult to. "Why am I wearing his uniform and carrying this sword? Please—tell me."

Judging by how he'd reacted thus far, Hilda was unsure of where to start, though she knew just how to deal with him regardless. "Very well," she said, "But, I want you to promise you'll hear out my request before you answer."

Knowing he'd regret it (but also that it was useless to refuse), he just nodded. "Yes, my princess."

With his agreement, she took a deep breath. "The uniform you wear is that of those who used to protect the royal family," she told him. Ravio widened his eyes as his suspicions started to gain light, though he did not speak, as he had promised. "Recently… I've spoken with Lorule's Knight Captain, and the former soldiers that now reside at the Dark Palace. They've all agreed to return to the castle, and re-establish Lorule's royal guard again," she said. The look of fear on Ravio's face was long since apparent, he felt sick as he realized exactly where this conversation was going. "I've asked if they'd accept and train a new soldier of my choosing. They said they would." She paused, knowing her next statement wouldn't sit with him well at all. "I was talking about  _you_ , Ravio."

Whatever little color he had in his face drained out at that very second. Begging her pardon, he exclaimed, "Have you lost your mind, Princess Hilda?!" She gave him a poisonous, sour look. He'd rather her had struck him, that look at him in such a way… but the worst case scenario in his mind had come true! Hilda was caught up in her dreams and illusions of Lorule's absent hero—of the person she wanted him to be. The person he wasn't. "What in Lorule make you think I'm capable of such a deed?!"

Using her rather unfair advantage over him, she asked, "You don't trust my judgement?" Her voice was weak, almost as if she was pleading.

Again, he found his words caught in his throat. "N-No…" he stammered. "That's not what—I…" His voice trailed off.

Hilda put a hand to her heart. "I know you have it in you, Ravio…" —She was _positive_  he had it in him. She was positive he could be a hero. "And if my word isn't enough, listen to the Goddesses." It was like a puzzle; all the pieces were lining up, yet Ravio could refused connecting them together. "Follow the path they're laying out for you."

He didn't know what to say. Rejecting Hilda's word wasn't something he did easily. "I don't even have the  _first idea_  how to wield a sword." Sounding nothing less than pathetic, he simply told her the truth. "I'm scared, Princess."

"I know," she said softly, and she really did know exactly how Ravio was feeling. "But what better way to find courage?"

Confused, he tilted his head a bit. "Your Highness?"

"Bravery is not the absence of fear, Ravio," she told him. "It's the facing of it."

He paused, never having considered it in such a way. He'd only ever seen the kind of courage Link had displayed. Charging in without a care, doing what he knew he had to, regardless of whatever obstetrical lay before him. He looked down to his feet. "How?" he asked softly. "How can you be so sure of me?" He simply couldn't follow Hilda's way of thinking. "The Triforce on my hand is barren. That disproves enough in itself, doesn't it?"

Hilda then smiled, shaking her head lightly in reply. "It's not because you bare the Triforce," she told him, only confusing Ravio further. Hilda could feel her face turning the slightest shade of pink—and surely enough, her next statement did the same to Ravio's cheeks. "You've always been my hero, Ravio."

He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the shivers going down his spine. Geez, what had gotten into her today? "You really shouldn't let your ideals get the best of you, Princess," he laughed awkwardly.

"But it's true," she said earnestly. "You were the only one who heard my voice that day, when we were children." His eyes lit up a bit, as he then gazed into her bright crimson ones. The smile on her face only flustered him that much more. "That's proof enough for me. —So, please, Ravio," she finally said. The princess then put her palm over her heart, taking a step back from him. "I ask you humbly and sincerely, please fulfill my request. Not just for my sake, but on behalf of all of Lorule." Hilda gave a low and solid bow. She was begging him. "Please, Ravio."

He just stared at the top of her head for a moment, almost dumbfounded, if not enticed by the lovely sight of her wavy indigo locks. His heart pounded for an answer; how could he possibly say no to that? To say he had trouble telling Hilda "no" in the first place was an understatement, now she was outwardly begging him. Stuck with the idea that this was, in fact, the Goddesses way of punishing for his cowardice—Ravio felt too weak to stand anymore. He fell to his knees—to what he knew was his rightful place, below Hilda. He knew his next statement would only lead to Hilda's utter disappointment, if not his end all together. Yet, it was all he could say. He looked up to the girl he might as well have been a slave to, flashing her a pathetic smile—choking back his fearful tears.

" _Whatever you ask, my dearest princess_."


	11. Zero

Zero

Every morning was the same, as was the case for nearly a month now.

Wake up to the unpleasant sound of the Knight Captain's voice, as he shouted for the soliders to get out of bed. Get yelled at again two minutes later, for doing exactly the opposite. Eventually drag himself out of bed, and garb himself in the tunic he harbored such immense disdain towards (feeling like nothing more than an impostor, as he did.) Trudge towards the training fields in front of the castle at that point, promptly arriving late to practice, much to the Knight Captain's dislike. Have to run an extra fifteen laps as punishment for arriving late to practice, much to the Knight Captain's entertainment. Feel like he could already pass out, at this early point in the day—and that was only what he had to endure before breakfast, mind you. It was hardly the worst of what his day had in store.

Mid-morning drills were just as bad—and said practices didn't even deal with swordplay.  _That'd_  come in the afternoon. God, the day had already felt like it'd been going on forever, and it wasn't even twelve. For now, however, he just had to survive training in hand to hand combat—hardly a workout for any trained solider, of course. Though, unlike his peers, he was anything  _but_  a solider—trained or otherwise. To say Ravio was the bottom of his "class" was an understatement.  _Sheerow_ probably would've even topped him in terms of rank.

Ah—but Sheerow wasn't even here, was he? The Royal Guard had a strict "no pets" policy. He'd learned that the first day when the Knight Captain nearly shot an arrow through the fluffy white creature always at Ravio's side. Since then (and to avoid any more near-death-encounters), Sheerow'd been staying with Princess Hilda instead.

Just as it was her idea that Ravio join the Guard, it was also Hilda's idea that he stay at the castle barracks. It'd help "build his character" the Captain insisted, and Hilda knew, this way, it would prevent Ravio from not showing up at all. But oh, how he missed his little house just south of the castle, and the comforting, messy lifestyle he'd always lived in it. He wished he could go back, lay flat across his old bed (yet unmade), and sleep the afternoon away. He wished he wasn't here, out in Lorule's unforgiving morning sun, getting the hell beat out of him by his current sparring partner.

But it wasn't all bad.

Being at the castle twenty-four seven, he was assured to see his princess every day. Sometimes she's stop by in the mornings, to check in with the Captain—and, despite her busy schedule, she always made time for him to meet him right as practice ended in the evening. She always insisted he spend his evenings with her—even if it meant going with her to boring meetings or lectures, or any of her other princessly duties. Sometimes, however, it would be just the two of them, and those were the days he really loved the most.

They'd spend their time together just like they always had. Perhaps they'd go to the Sacred Realm, or walk around the court yards, or explore parts of the castle he'd never seen. Forgetting about the reality and stress of their lives, and just enjoy that moment they lived. Perhaps he'd tell her jokes, or make her laugh, or make and smile. And just the thought of such a radiant expression on his dear princess' face, was enough to get Ravio though any day of brutal training—including today's.

* * *

Promptly falling back to the ground upon being struck—a sharp pain shot through Ravio's left shoulder. He let out a pitiful cry, clutching the pressure point where he'd been hit. His sparring partner only laughed in victory, shooting a nasty, stuck-up smirk at the fallen boy. Ravio returned the expression with a weak glare of his own. The other young man, Viscen, as he was known—was hardly intimidated. Being nearly twice the size of Ravio, and at least five years older—he was, wouldn't you know, currently the most suitable solider in the Guard, at the moment. Surely it was totally coincidence that the Captain paired them against one another.

"That's twelve to zero, Bunny Boy."

 _Bunny Boy._ Ravio sorely regretted indulging the Guard in his full title, on the first day of introduction. "I'm surprised you can count that high," he muttered, nearly inaudible.

"What was that?" Viscen scowled, leaning down, clutching Ravio's collar—jerking him forward. Again, the violet-haired boy let out a pitiful yelp. Smirking at the sound, Viscen said, "What's say we make it _thirteen_ to zero?"

"Rather poor sportsmanship of you, Viscen," a stern, though feminine voice chimed in.

Both boys turned at the sound, seeing none other than Lorule's princess, herself. "P-Princess Hilda!" the solider stuttered, letting go of Ravio in an instant—who fell back to the ground with a thud. Viscen bowed accordingly, but Hilda only let him her most displeased scowl.

With her few graceful steps, she stopped at Ravio's side, offering him her gloved palm. Almost solemn, though not ungrateful, he took her hand as she helped him up. Her angered expression had long since vanished; she smiled sweetly. "Good morning, Ravio."

"Your Grace," he said in reply, giving a bow—feeling a familiar shooting pain in his shoulder, as he crossed his arm over his chest. Wincing, he asked, "W-what brings you here, today?"

"The Captain invited me. He said your regiment was having some sort of swordplay assessment, today?" She smiled cheerfully—to which Ravio didn't.

"Wait—that's t _oday_!?" he said frantically, looking around at his peers who all but ignored him.

"Oh Ravio," she said, giving a hopeless smile. "You'd forget your own head if it wasn't attached to your neck."

But how could he forget something like this!? Wasn't the Captain supposed to, oh, give some sort of notice?

"C'mon now, Ravio, we must'a told you at least a dozen times," a familiar, gruff voice chimed in. Hovering over them was his aforementioned advisor—gazing upon Ravio with a sort of self-satisfied smirk. The young man narrowed his olive eyes, realizing, this was—in fact, not a coincidence. He'd not said a single word to him about today's test till this moment. Ravio didn't need to guess, to know exactly why that was.

The Captain had it in for him from day one. After hearing from Princess Hilda about a potential new recruit, Ravio was not at all what he'd pictured. He was reluctant to accept anyone who wasn't of his choosing in the first place, so from the moment he laid eyes on this this small, rabbit eared boy—he knew that he most certainly did not have what it took to be a solider. Ravio wanted to hate him for thinking such a thing. But such a thing was only the truth. A truth everyone in Lorule saw, except its blissfully unaware princess.

"Forgive him, Captain," Hilda said, all too cheerily. "He's a bit forgetful." Ravio crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes and entertaining a sour expression.

The Captain laughed, "Nothing to fret over, Your Highness. However, I think he can make it up to both of us by doing a 'grade A' job today, isn't that right, boy?"

Ravio's sour expression twisted, just as he felt his stomach do the same. "Mm…" was all he said, neither in confirmation nor deny.

Smacking a firm hand on Ravio's pained shoulder, the Captain said, "Since the princess is on a busy schedule, I figured you'd be the first up. You'll be facing off against Viscen." He turned toward the other young man, who looked nothing less than devilishly pleased. Ravio felt the color drain from his face. Today just kept getting better and better. "Go grab your weapons and be back here in five minutes," he told the two boys.

"Ah—before you do," Hilda interrupted, "I've brought something for you, Ravio." Hearing her worlds, the boy turned to his princess, who was now holding out an oddly familiar object.

It was a shield; black trimmed with a dark-red face. It bore the symbol of Lorule's Triforce.

"It's the shield of the Lorulean royal family. I wanted you to have it for your test today," she said, offering him a kind smile along with the item. "The Lorulean Shield."

Somehow unsurprised, Ravio just gazed at it with a low expression. He knew it looked familiar. He recalled Link bringing home a similar item one day, during his adventure. The Hylian Sheild. Surely, not a coincidence.

Why did Princess Hilda insist on doing this? She could wish with all her heart—give him an aesthetic make-over in the false image of the Link—but in the end, it was all in vain. This way, he was only like a mirror reflection. And surely, he'd shatter just as easily.

He gave a soft sigh. Reaching out, taking the sheild with both hands. He nearly dropped it the second he did, however, before getting a firmer grasp upon it. It was heavier than it looked. He felt pathetic, realizing Hilda'd just been holding it without any strain at all. Regardless, he cleared his throat, and regained his posture.

"Thank you, Your Grace," was all he said, before turning away, walking towards the armory across the field. Hilda smiled, perhaps intentionally choosing to disregard his low expression.

Having watched the scene, the Knight Captain gazed upon Ravio with a judgmental glare. "Isn't the royal shield only supposed to be wielded by the greatest knight in the kingdom, Your Highness?" he muttered to Princess Hilda.

"Why, yes," Hilda said casually, smiling as she did, "it is."

* * *

After his momentary absence, Ravio again found himself on the training ground—standing in the middle of a make-shift ring. In front of him was his opponent, smirking already. Ravio stared blankly, however, hardly caring; already knowing the outcome of today's match.

"Do your best Ravio!" A kind (though out-of-place) voice cheered him on from behind. He looked over his shoulder, giving Hilda a shy wave and smile in confirmation—only to again face forward, seeing an expression exactly the opposite. Viscen scowled at him as though her were the most worthless creature in the world.

"Bet you think you're so great, getting pampered by Princess Hilda, like that," muttered his opponent suddenly, with a voice as sharp as the daggers he glared at Ravio.

Caught off-guard, the boy raised a violet eyebrow. "What?"

He only continued, spouting his words of venom. "Boy, did our little Princess make a terrible mistake, choosing a  _wimp_ like you to join our Guard. She really thinks you'll be able to defend her one day?" —A statement to which Ravio gave a bitter, insulted frown. "She couldn't'a chosen a worse candidate in all of Lorule," Viscen hissed, though nearly laughing as he did. And Ravio, growing annoyed, gripped his palms tight around the sword and shield in his hands.

Perhaps it was because he couldn't deny the truth in Viscen's statement.

Regardless, just as Hilda'd always told him to do—Ravio took what ever insults were thrown at him, and disposed of them just as quickly. However, he most certainly was  _not_ expecting—nor tolerant of what the other boy had to say next.

"Though, that's not exactly the first time she's made a few bad choices… now is it?"

With eyes suddenly going wide, chills went down Ravio's spine. He looked up to the boy with an almost appalled expression, as he continued spouting his vile words. "That wrenched ruler of ours was the reason we had to disband the Guard in the first place, wasn't it? What good is a ruler if they can't protect their subjects?  _Pathetic_."

The fingers the gripped the hilt of his sword twitched. Unconsciously, Ravio held his breath for a moment.

"She's the cause of all that's  _wrong_  in the world."

Ravio lowered his head, looking to the ground below his feet. As he did, the boy in front of him laughed aloud. "What, are you gonna start crying again?" he taunted.

But, quite on the contrary, sorrow was not the emotion that filled his heart, at the moment.

Suddenly, and so unlike himself, Ravio lunged forward at Viscen with his sword. The taller boy was caught substantially off-guard, as were their spectators. The few dull conversations from the sidelines had fallen silent.

Luckily for Viscen, however, Ravio was still Ravio—and his coordination was still the same. His attack was easily dodged, but when he looked back to the dark-haired boy in front of him, he was even more surprised to see the expression upon his face.

Ravio's normally cheerful, olive eyes burned with something darker; a rage nothing else could send him into. As if Viscen had done more than toss around a few insults, Ravio's heart pounded with anger.

"Insult  _me_  all you'd like," Ravio finally replied, whispering softly, hostly. "Curse me to hell and and back for all I care. But I—" he paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. Suddenly, he lunged at the other boy once more, raising his voice as he did, "I will never allow anyone to speak of my princess in such a way!"

Viscen raised his shield, again blocking Ravio's attack. Despite his abnormal behavior, the taller boy was anything but intimidated. He laughed heartily, enraging Ravio further. Was this a joke to him? Swinging his sword with anything but precise choreography, rage was the only thing that fueled Ravio's blows. And sadly, that was not enough.

"Looks like little Bunny Boy has a soft spot of the princess!" Viscen smirked. "Though that's not saying much—!" Swiftly kicking the shield from Ravio's other hand, it fell to the ground with a loud clank. A sound that almost instantly brought Ravio back to reality. The reality that he'd just angered the six-foot-tall solider in front of him—and that he was now completely defenseless. Looking to the shield, then back to Viscen—his eyes went wide. " _You're soft all over."_

He look a step back, suddenly scared for his life. Before he knew it, Viscen took a hostile jab at him, aiming right for his face. Ravio jerked his head to the side in a poor attempt to dodge. Though he was but a second too slow, as the sharp blade sliced his cheek, right below his eye. He let out a small cry, clutching the cut. As he did, however, Viscen took the opening so easily presented to him, kicking Ravio in the stomach.

He again cried out in pain. Aching, fearful, uncoordinated—he fell back to the ground. His sword slipped from his hand, and, remembering how useless it was to him, he didn't reach for it. Seeing Viscen looming over him, readying his sword for another blow, Ravio did all he could—shielding his arms over his face. He slammed his eyelids closed—feeling terrified tears burning in the corners of his eyes.

What a fitting end, for such a pitiful, pitiful coward, were the only words resonating loud in his mind.

"Enough!"

His heart simultaneously lifted and fell in that moment, hearing the familiar voice call to his rescue. And after three seconds of not being impaled, he dared to open one eye, looking past his arms. He did not see Viscen's sword as moments before, but the hem of a flowing, white gown. Hilda'd stepped in; he looked up, seeing the princess holding her staff out—pointed directly at the tall boy before her.

Relief washed over Ravio. Nearly passing out from the pain still resonating in his stomach—he fell on his back.

Hilda was prompt to unleash her disdain and anger with Viscen's poor, near-murderous behavior. She was also quick to scold the Knight Captain as he didn't step in. Asserting her voice of authority, she disbanded the Guard for the afternoon. Though she was sure Viscen would receive full punishment for his actions. Ravio, however, simply laid on the ground in defeat. Though, not entirely in defeat from Viscen. Or mostly, for that matter. The defeat that stemmed from the girl still looming over him.

"Ravio," Hilda said softly, as she turned back to him. She had a concerned expression on her face, as he laid there with a blank expression—still gripping his stomach. Kneeling at his side, the princess asked, "Are you alright?"

He only nodded, then wincing as his stomach resonated with pain. Wearing a weak expression, Hilda helped him sit up slightly. Looking almost disappointed, she asked, "Oh, why did you anger him so, Ravio? It was only a test."

With eyes suddenly going wide, he was quick in trying to correct her. "M-Me?!" he said. "He was the one who—!" He paused though, realizing it might be best not to speak further. He felt nothing less than ashamed and embarrassed with himself. From the corner of his eye, he looked to Hilda, staring at him for an answer. Again, he looked away.

* * *

"She really thinks you'll be able to defend her one day?"

* * *

He could not even defend her from the insults of worthless man like Viscen. "Nevermind," he eventually said, attempting to stand up. As he did, he stumbled a bit, falling back on ground, gripping his stomach. Hilda caught him before he could, of course.

"Let's get you to the infirmary," she said softly, placing her arms around him.

"I-I'm fine, Your Highnes—ah!"

Ignoring him, she helped him to his feet. Giving in, he sighed and leaned upon her—beginning to realize he could not help but resent Hilda's kind actions, despite how much he appreciated them.


	12. Conviction

Conviction

"Oh, stop fidgeting Ravio," Hilda protested, pinching a cotton ball dabbed with disinfectant between a pair of tweezers. She'd attempted to press it to the cut on his face, only to have him flinch and whine like a small child. Putting a hand on her hip, she asked, "You don't want it to get infected, do you?" To which Ravio gave a defeated grunt. He frowned, squeezing his eyes shut—leaning forward slightly for Hilda to continue her nursing. She smiled, happily doing so with his compliance.

"Don't you think you should be letting a nurse handle this, Your Grace?" he asked, wincing as she dabbed the cure to his face.

"I'd feel much better taking care of you than any nurse in Lorule," she said gently, though her actions weren't quite as painless.

"As you wish," he said, giving a weak smile. Looking around, Ravio did his best to distract from the stinging sensation on his cheek. Hilda'd taken him to her family's private infirmary, not that of the Guard's. As they were no longer within the Knight Captain's sight, Sheerow'd rejoined them happily (laughing chirpishly at his owners whining.) But, regardless, across the room was an area secluded by a thin purple curtain. Through the translucent shade, Ravio could see a figure laying wakelessly in another hospital bed. He knew who this other figure was, though he did not bring it to their conversation. Instead he looked back to the princess in front of him—as she proceeded to voice her usual disdain.

"But you know—" she said suddenly, "you really should watch your mouth from time to time, Ravio," Hilda scolded. "Your sarcasm will only hurt you in the long run," said the princess. "You wouldn't be in this situation if you'd keep your thoughts secluded."

"I know, I know," Ravio waved his hand, wanting anything but to discuss the subject further. "My deepest apologizes, Princess."

As she'd finished disinfecting his injury, Hilda turned to put away the medical supplies she'd taken from the nearby cupboard. She paused for a moment, as Ravio had come to realize there might've been something else on her mind. And, as it would happen, there was.

"But… that wasn't what angered you, was it?" she asked after a moment, finding it oddly difficult to look to him. Hilda laced her fingers together, holding her hands at chest level. She seemed to be losing herself within her thoughts. "I've… I've never seen you so hostile," she said hesitantly.

The scene replayed in Hilda's mind yet; Ravio lunging toward Viscen with sword in hand, and rage in his attack. It was a side of him she'd never seen. It was one that made her heart stop—only to have it race at the speed of light, as he'd shouted the words of her defense.

* * *

"I will never allow you to speak of my princess in such a way!"

* * *

Her heart fluttered. He was so hostile—in regards to her for some reason? Regardless, she hardly had a moment to think about it before she stepped in to save him from Viscen's assault. Those words, however, that protest he'd yelled for all of Lorule to hear—it still lingered in her mind. She'd always knew Ravio was her most loyal subject, yet, he'd never stood in her defense as boldly as he had today.

"What got into you?" she dared to ask.

To which, he, too, was silent for a moment. It was almost as though he'd hoped Hilda had gone deaf and blind for those few moments of his outburst. "A-ah, well…" He rubbed the back of his head, unsure of how to justify his actions. Not to mention, Hilda already dealt with enough of her leadership disapproval on a daily basis. "It's… it's nothing you should worry over, Your Grace. I suppose I was just a bit overworked with my training," he said, giving a bright smile in hopes she'd drop it. "I overreacted, that's all."

Hilda put a hand over her heart, however. She gave a weak smile. "Ah—of course," was all she said. It was silly for her to think anything otherwise. Soon brightening up, however—she simply reminded herself of the fact that he was in the Guard at all at her own request. That was more than enough to make her cheerful eternally. "Regardless," she turned back to him, smiling once more, "I was glad to see the progress in your swordplay! —Even if you didn't pass your exam."

"Ah—" he blinked, almost wanting to laugh at her statement. She considered today's display progress? Regardless, he complied, "Thank you, Your Grace.  _Your_  approval is all I need," he said truthfully, "I'm glad you think so."

"I do," she replied kindly. Taking another small box from the cupboard she rummaged through, she said, "In… in fact, there was something I was planning on asking you after you passed your assessment today, but I suppose now's just a good a time."

Ravio tilted his head to the side, curious. "There's something you wished to ask me?"

Hilda nodded, then sitting down beside him on the padded bed he occupied. "You see," she said, "As you know, I've been so busy as of late. Lorule Castle alone has undergone so much reconstruction; I've been working my hardest to return it to its original state. And now, I feel it's time for… a celebration of sorts."

Ravio blinked. "A celebration?"

Hilda nodded once more. "Lorule's is nearly the castle it once was ages ago. All that's left is to open it to the subjects again, and give them a beginning glimpse of what our world can be. I wanted to have a formal ball of sorts, in honor of such an event."

Again, Ravio seemed confused. "A formal ball?" he asked, unsure of what such an event was.

Hilda clasped her hands together, nodded. "It's something people used to have to celebrate wonderful events, and," she paused, avoiding his eye contact. "As it would happen, many of my subject have been questioning about the sudden change in Lorule as a Kingdom. It's not something we can keep under wraps much longer. So, I was thinking," Occupying a long drawn out pause, she didn't finish her sentence.

Judging by her meek behavior, he was unsure if he liked where this was going. "You were thinking, what?"

Looking up to him, she replied, "on announcing the restoration of our Triforce."

Ah—that was all? "That's a wonderful idea, Your Highness!" he grinned.

With his compliance, she returned his expression. "I'm glad you think so!" she said, "So you'll certainly attend, won't you?"

"Do you have to ask?" he winked.

With a pause, she twiddled her thumbs, "As… my honored guest?"

At that, he raised an eyebrow. "Your honored guest?"

She stopped for a moment. "Because, surely… I'll need to announce to that those who hold the Triforce  _within_  them have also risen again."

And suddenly, all the color drained from Ravio's face.

"Your Highness—!"

"Ravio, you must understand!" she cut him off, again, sounding nothing less than pleading, "we'll have to face this eventually!"

"B-but—Princess Hilda—I'm—I can't—!" he spoke frantically, feeling his heart race speed up beneath his aching ribs, "I'm not ready for this!"

"Neither am I!" she said. "To tell Lorule that I, of all people, bare the Triforce of Wisdom?!" She put a hand to her chest. "Don't you understand?  _I'm_  terrified too."

Suddenly, his expression weakened, hearing Hilda voice her own fear. "I…" he trailed off, lowering his head. Despite all he'd already done for her sake, he felt nothing less than selfish at that moment. He paused, unable to confront such feelings. Shamefully changing subjects, he asked, "When  _is_  this ball, Princess Hilda?"

She swallowed hard. "Three days from now." A response that didn't sit well with him, of course; he opened his mouth to once again object, but Hilda cut him off. "Ravio," she said softly, her tone suddenly changing. She looked down at the small box still in her lap. "Though we're afraid, we  _need_ to do this." Her voice was calming, though serious. "And… we  _can_  do this—together." She felt her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink.

Though he was silent for a moment, Ravio eventually closed his eyes.

Lorule had been hopeless for years, eons; empty, lost. Without a wise ruler, and—as fake as he might've been, without a hero. They couldn't run away from this forever. Looking down at his hand, he could only think of the horrors plaguing him since the day those three, cursed triangles appeared.

" _You're right_ ," he eventually said.

Needless to say, she was surprised with his compliance. "Does… does that mean, you'll join me on the night of the ball?" And, swallowing hard, Ravio nodded slowly. Suddenly Hilda's face lit up, she laced her fingers together. "Oh, Ravio!" she said. "Thank you so much!"

Her sweet expression was infectious. He smiled a bit. "You don't need to thank me."

"I do." With that, she only gazed at him, never faltering in her smile. After a moment, she took a bandage from the box she'd been holding yet. Silently, gently—she placed it over the cut on his face. With a pink hue cloaking her cheeks, she took his hands in hers. Soon, she confessed, "I couldn't do this without you, Ravio."

Her blush was contagious, he found it hard to look away, with her flattering words. Though he felt dreadful knowing the fate that lay before him,  _also_ knowing he provided even the smallest ounce of support for Her Highness overjoyed Ravio. How he wished he could always be there for her. "Then it's an honor, Your Grace."

The same thoughts filled their mind. —Lorule would soon know who they were, who the Goddesses falsely predicted them to be. They'd have to face whatever expectations and judgements would soon lay before him. But right now, with only one another's hands in their own, they both felt as though everything would be alright. The two just sat there for a moment, gazing at one another. Feeling an odd, mutual sense of joy despite all that lay ahead of them yet. Despite how overwhelming life might've been. Despite their hardships they were  _still_ dealing with yet, in that moment, if  _only_ for that moment—it really all seemed so insignificant.

Almost unconscious, Hilda leaned forward, placing her lips to lightly to the bandaged cut on his cheek. That instant, snapping out of his daze, Ravio's face turned the brightest shade of crimson it ever had. Shivers went down his spine, his eyes went wide. He let out a small squeak in surprise—to which Hilda instantly pulled away. In a tizzy, Ravio braced himself from falling backwards, placing his arm against the fluffy bed comforter. With his other hand, he tapped his finger tips to the violet kiss mark on his cheek. Even Sheerow was surprised, nearly falling right out of the sky as he flapped beside Ravio.

Dazed and confused, he could only stare and stutter in confusion. "P-Princess—!"

Suddenly, realizing her actions (and all the consequences of them), she put her gloved palms to her lips. "I-I—!" She hardly known what'd just come over her. Also at a loss for words, Hilda's cheeks started glowing in a shade of embarrassment just the same—and then, however unluckily for her, such a feeling was only stressed.

From across the room, a raspy, familiar voice said, "Goodness, Hilda. You don't want to give the boy a heart attack, do you?" A laugh was soon to follow.

Shifting apart like the red sea, Hilda and Ravio slid to opposite directions of the bed. Remembering their formally unconscious company, Hilda shouted back, "F-Father!?" The two looked over, seeing the thin purple curtain pushed to the side. There sat Hilda's father—the king of Lorule.

"Y-Your Grace!" Ravio stuttered.

"How long have you been awake?!" Hilda demanded—flustered, angry, embarrassed. She stood up, stamping her foot.

"Just a few moments," again, he laughed. "Though I suppose, that's more than long enough."

"Y-You were eavesdropping upon us?!" shouted Hilda, hoping to flip the conversation on him.

"Ahh—yes, yes. Forgive me, my darling. I'm sure you and poor Ravio are nothing less than angered with me for ruining such a moment." A hint of playfulness was in his tone.

Speaking of Ravio, he only sat there informally (finding it hard to concentrate on the moment at hand,) yet tapping his fingertips to his cheek. "I-I—?" he raised an eyebrow, wondering if that kick in the stomach earlier had somehow effected his perception on reality.

Hilda looked back and forth between the two others in the room, before promptly turning away as though nothing had happened at all. "I-it's nothing like that!" she said. "Regardless, I have work to do. Ravio—change your bandages before you go to bed, and take the herbal remedies you were given—and get to bed early tonight!" she ordered, to which he nodded profusely, hurting his neck as he did. Grabbing her staff, Hilda trotted towards the doorway. For a mere second, however, she stopped. She didn't look back to either of them in full, though she gave Ravio the very slightest glance.

"But, again," she whispered—nearly inaudibly, though so sincerely, "thank you."

Hearing her soft words sent the smallest smile sailing across his lips. He gazed at her as she'd made her exit. Soon gripping reality, he'd yet to remove his hand from his cheek—from the stained mark of light, purple lipstick. Sheerow nudged his Ravio playfully, though he didn't seem to notice.

Suddenly taken from his daze, Ravio remembered his company, and his voice was made known. "Seems as though you took quite a beating today, didn't you, my boy?"

"A-ah—King Lorule!" Ravio turned back to him. "My apologies!" Giving a bright smile, reminding himself of the man whole he spoke to, the younger stood. After giving a low bow, he said, "W-well, y'know. I'm new to this who 'knight' thing!"

"Ah yes," the King nodded, "Hilda's told me many times. She speaks of you so often, you know."

Ravio blinked. Somewhat surprised by his liege's statement, he asked, "She… she does?"

King Lorule nodded. "In fact, it seems you're all that's on her mind as of late. She's so proud of all you're doing for our kingdom."

Ravio smiled a bit, and gazed off to the side. But there was something in his expression; a look of disappointment. Undoubtably, with himself. "I'm glad to hear," he said, half-hearted.

"…But that's not why you're doing all she asks, is it?" replied the king. Ravio then looked up to the man in front of him, not saying a word in response. Giving a warm smile, the older man leaned back in his bed yet. "It would seems as though all in Lorule could see it besides her; ten years, and you've yet to tell my daughter how you feel." Though his voice was raspy yet, he sounded amused.

Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, Ravio gave an uncomfortable laugh. Anything but comfortable about talking this over with Hilda's  _father_ , of all people, he said, "O-oh, Your Grace! It's nothing like that. You know as well as I do that I'd do anything Her Highness told me! My feelings are of the utmost loyalty."

Though the king wasn't convinced in the slightest. "You're loyalty has long since bloomed into ardency, Ravio. I've known you since you were a small boy. Surely, you don't think you can fool me, do you?" To which Ravio parted his lips to reply, but—feeling worthless as he only carried out such lies to his king—he shut his mouth instantly.

"Truly, I'd tell her soon, if I were you," the king smiled at him. "I have no doubt that there'll be numerous suitors for this upcoming ball that she's been planning."

Feeling his heart sink, though expectantly, he only looked at the curtains fluttering in the nearby window. "Ah…" he smiled sadly, "is that so?"

He nodded. "And if that isn't enough to convince you—Hilda's also told me she's since found Lorule's new hero." Ravio laughed in the back of his mind, knowing the truth of the situation. Whatever reassurance he felt before had long since disappeared with Hilda's presence. He clenched his hand, trying his hardest to ignore the vacant triangle stained upon it. The one he'd never truly withhold. "She's yet to mention whom, exactly, only that they bare the Triforce of Courage."

"Well," Ravio put on a cheery, false grin. "Surely, a hero is exactly whom the princess deserves! A real hero would  _far_  surpass whatever she'd get out of me."

Giving a slight sigh, King Lorule looked to the boy. He had a serious expression upon his face, though it was entirely earnest at the same time. He paused. "In the darkest of times, you've made my daughter smile. That enough should make you a hero, should it not?"

"Perhaps that's so, Your Grace. But Lorule is no-longer within its darkest times," he said.

Knowing this argument could go on for days, the king gave a defeated laugh. "I suppose you're right," he said, "just as I suppose you've come to terms with your decision." Both were quiet for a moment, solemn with the truth. But there was a a notion that King Lorule voiced. One he sincerely knew Ravio deserved to hear.

"You've always been a light in my daughter's life. You've always helped her find happiness. Something no one else could do. Thank you, Ravio. Sincerely, my child. Thank you."

Hardly feeling as though he deserved such praise, Ravio gave a meek smile. "D-don't thank me, My Liege!" he smiled, nodded a bit. "For that's all I've ever wished as well…"

With another pause, speaking in his raspy, earnest voice—the king voiced one more statement—the single  _request_ , in his mind.

"Then please, promise me," he said softly, "please, help my daughter find happiness, whatever it takes. Truly, you're the only one who can."

Ravio's heart nearly stopped at that moment. It was such a simple request, but it was one that instantly struck Ravio with the conclusion of what he'd have to do. Though the king's words were entirely vague, he suddenly realized, he was right. In such a painful way, he was right.

He could not wield a sword. A shield was nothing more than a burden. He was not swift, he was not brave. He was nothing more than a merchant, a rabbit, a coward. After today, and even long before, he'd known that—but now, it was clearer to him than ever. Thinking back to the mark on his hand, and its counterpart—the golden power that yet in the sacred realm, Ravio suddenly knew what he had to do. In such a painful way, he knew what he had to do.

He lowered his head a bit. His dark-violet hair covered his eyes. Regardless, his ever-existent smile prevailed.

"Of course, Your Highness," Ravio finally, with a new sort of conviction in his voice. "I promise you," he looked at his lap, putting a hand to his heart. "I'll do all in my power to achieve exactly that."

Standing up, Ravio bowed. Then excusing himself, he wished the King a speedy recovery.

However, unlike he was ordered, Ravio's exit was not towards the barracks where he'd been ordered to stay. Sheerow raised an eyebrow, though followed his owner regardless. Sure to avoid the eyes of any nearby Guard's, Ravio headed towards the castle's front exit.

Outside, the sun had since begun to set. Walking down the stone bridge, he headed back to where he knew belonged, his lonely little home. As he looked up to the twilight sky, he was reminded of the dark days of a dying Lorule. However, the the clouds were no longer lined with dark shades of black and gray, but instead—those of the purest gold, and the brightest yellow. Just like the Triforce. In that moment, a gentle voice echoed in his memory.

* * *

"The wish upon our Triforce shall remain yours, Ravio, whether you choose to use it or not."


	13. Masked

Masked

> Ravio,
> 
> Firstly, I regret being unable to deliver this letter to you myself. If you've received it, I'll at least know you didn't take off far once again. However, even if that is the case, I am not going to pretend your actions the last three days have not been severe.
> 
> I cannot being to express my feelings of disbelief with your sudden disappearance. Both myself and the Guard Captain are incredibly disappointed. To skip your training on account of one bad exam is inexcusable and disrespectful—and not just to him, but to myself as well. You should have come and spoken to me first before you chose to do anything. I expect you to return to the guard soon, and I sincerely hope you will not let me down this time.
> 
> Perhaps I'll find forgiveness for these actions if you follow through with the rest of your commitments, bringing me to the matter of the ball this evening. I have a feeling this event might be linked to your abrupt leave, correct? Tonight, I will still be announcing you as Lorule's chosen holder of the Triforce, and whether or not you're there to accept this role is your decision. I'm sure you'll know which choice will be the easiest not only on me, but yourself as well. You made a promise, Ravio, and I expect you to stick to it. Please, do not disappoint me.
> 
> This night was supposed to be a joyous occasion. However, given your actions, I've been nothing but anxious over the matter. It could still be a wondrous evening—it all depends on what course of action you choose to pursue.
> 
> I have dearly missed your presence at the castle, Ravio. I'd be nothing less than delighted to have you back at my side.
> 
> I am anxiously awaiting your return.
> 
> —Princess Hilda Lorule
> 
> P.S. With this letter, I've attached a package with formal garments and a mask. The ball tonight is a masquerade, and it's proper etiquette to disclose your identity. Perhaps we would have had time to go over all this, should you have chosen to stay at the castle.

* * *

As Ravio gazed at the red-inked letter, for perhaps the millionth time, he could've swore he saw the imprint of a few small tear drops at the bottom, near Her Highness's signature. His heart sank, as he read it over and over again. However, he, of course, knew this was bound to happen—that he was bound to disappoint her, leave her abandoned and hurt with his disappearance. In the back of his mind, he tried to justify his actions—but it was of no use. Even if they were only temporary, he did not want to cause Hilda any more distress.

But regardless of his guilt, it was true that his actions, were, in fact, very temporary.

He had no intention of not showing up to the ball that evening. He'd planned to from the moment he heard about it, and that still held true. And knowing that his presence would perhaps make Hilda's night the tiniest bit easier, he was more than delighted to go. Perhaps, even a bit excited—when not plagued with looming anxiety and depression. For going to the castle to attend the ceremony was not all he had planned for that night.

He'd returned home for one reason, and one reason only. To write in his journal once more, and live out those three days in euphoric memories and thoughts of her—in high hopes of having one last, equally as euphoric night with his princess. By the time those three days were over, he'd since filled every line on every page with memories of her, his most ardent feelings of love and loyalty to her, and all he wished for her future, and the wonderful things still in store.

But no longer did he gaze at the letter she'd sent him. Instead, he tucked it away in his trusted, rupee-printed rucksack, along with his journal itself. As here he was, standing right outside the castle's brick bridge. Gazing once over to Sheerow, fluttering at his side, Ravio put on a smile, then sliding his mask over his face.

* * *

"Don't worry, my darling. He said he'd show up, and I'm certain he will," King Lorule reassured his daughter. Hilda had found a moment to stand at her father's side, as they gazed out upon his many masked subjects. The mask Princess Hilda wore covered only her eyes, however, allowing anyone to see the small frown spread across her lips. Her father, sensing his daughters dissatisfaction, put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Besides, the postman said he received your letter, and I'm sure there's no way he'd be able to run after reading that," he laughed a bit.

"I do certainly hope you're right," she said firmly, trying desperately to hide any unwanted emotions she felt otherwise.

He was silent for a moment, scanning the crowd of his many joyous subjects. Seeing them all dancing, feasting, and having a generally wonderful time was enough to brighten any mood his sickness might have brought on. And such a feeling was only furthered, as he caught sight of a very certain individual, walking through the archway at that very moment. "I am," the king said, smiling a bit. "Look over there," he pointed out to the crowd. Head turning instantly as her father spoke, Hilda caught sight of her awaited guest with no effort at all. Perhaps it was so easy to tell it was him—because there he stood, wearing his long purple cloak—complete with his signature violet bunny ears and all.

Despite the fact that he wasn't wearing the outfit she'd sent, Hilda couldn't hold back the ecstatic smile spreading across her lips. Without another word to her father, she stepped away from his side, and towards Ravio. She could hardly contain herself from running straight towards him, but she restrained for her princessly image. Regardless, she was excited. He was here.

Seeing the indigo-haired princess approach him, Ravio gazed over at Sheerow, then down at the bag at his side. He muttered a few words to the creature; Sheerow squawked in reassurance—then grabbed the bag by its draw string, taking it away.

As Hilda reached him, Ravio then gave a low and formal bow. Without a word, only a soft giggle, Hilda did the same in return. Rising once again, the two looked at one another for a moment. Hilda could've sworn she even saw a smile from underneath his hood. She did not insist he take it off as she always had in the past—for, after all, it  _was_  a mask. She was not mad that he didn't wear the formal outfit she'd sent, in fact, it was quiet the opposite. Perhaps he looked silly in comparison to the other guests, but, seeing him dressed that way, so much like himself—it made feel Hilda oddly happier. Perhaps she didn't even realize it, though.

"Ravi—" she said, only to be cut off shortly as he put his pointer finger to his own lips, shushing her.

"I was recently instructed—by a certain dear princess I'm acquainted with—on the etiquette of events such as this," said Ravio, a hint of playfulness in his tone. "She said that all identities are supposed to be kept confidential, yes?"

Laughing slightly, Hilda went along with him. "Ah—you're right, good sir. Forgive me."

"Forgiveness is not needed at all, my lady," he said kindly, "Though, perhaps, if you truly wished to make it up to me, you'd do me the honor of accepting my hand in this next dance." He put one palm to his chest, and held the other out for her to talk. "I know I'm rather undignified to be asking someone as fair as yourself to dance, but nothing would make me happier."

A sweet, perhaps even shy smile spread across Hilda's hidden visage. Though she doubted her mask was enough to hide the blush on her cheeks, she did not care at all. Uncaring of how "undignified" she, too, was acting at the moment, Hilda reached out, placing a light palm in his. "It'd be an honor."

After leading his princess out on the floor, Ravio was then hit was a (perhaps embarrassing) realization, however.

"Though I… do not know this dance."

Naturally, Hilda laughed lightly, having expected as much from him. "Don't worry. I shall teach you." Taking his palm in hers, she placed it on her waist. Afterwords, she again took his other hand, holding it up, as she placed her palm lightly on his shoulder. "Just follow my steps." As instructed, he did so easily. "Wonderful."

"Only because you're a wonderful teacher, my lady."

Hilda blushed a bit, ardent and flattered. Neither cared nor perhaps even noticed the few strange stares they got. The princess? With an odd boy dressed like a rabbit, at a formal event such as this? Whispers rang through the air, though they did not reach whom they were about.

"It would seem as though a fine regal gentleman like yourself knows his way around the dance floor," she teased. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've done a bit of dancing before," said Hilda playfully.

"Ah, perhaps," Ravio laughed lightly, "Though nothing like this." From under his hood, he once again smiled. Playing along yet, he explained, "To be honest, I much prefer to sing."

"Is that right?" Hilda replied happily, as if on queue. Ravio laughed genuinely—positively joyous to be sharing in such an occasion with her, at this moment. "I'm sure your voice is nothing less than fetching."

"Well," he said, almost proudly, "I've been told something of the like before."

"Oh?" said the princess. He nodded, she giggled.

Her expression softened. She was so happy he was here, that he'd come back. He'd gotten her letter, he understood how much this meant to her. Really, nothing could've made her happier. Perhaps he'd messed up in the slightest, whatever had gone through his head had since left. He'd not let her down. Tonight was already shaping up to be the best of her life.

Abnormally shy, she leaned a bit closer and spoke softly. "Then perhaps… you'd sing for me now, good sir?" she asked.

"A-ah…" he stuttered a bit, having hardly expected her to ask such a thing. Under his hood, he blushed, only to soon feel his heart sink, knowing exactly the song Hilda was hoping to hear. "But—the other guests—?" he said, quick to be cut off.

"Then sing softly," she told him, not about to take no for an answer, "for only me to hear."

As though something were holding him back, he was hesitant and silent for a moment. It did not go unnoticed by Hilda.

Slowly, he did as she said, leaning over in the slightest. His voice was soft and gentle as he whispered in her ear, quite unlike his usual perky tone. It was as though he were singing a child to sleep, or perhaps—lamenting to the person he loved.

"Maybe by tomorrow, the sun is gonna glow."

His soft words warmed Hilda, as she was sure Ravio brought the sun wherever he went.

"Maybe by tomorrow, not gonna stab my toe."

As she had every time, Hilda let out a small giggle. He'd never lost his ability to make her laugh, and undoubtably, never would.

"Maybe by tomorrow, the snow is gonna blow."

Hilda never liked the cold, but when those lyrics came from his lips, she suddenly found herself wishing it to be winter.

Ravio was quiet, though he did not budge an inch, as if he had yet to finish his song. Remembering that day so long ago, in the scared realm, Hilda looked at him curiously. Seeing that look on his princess's face, the hooded boy was hesitant, but soon dismissed his posture. He let go of Hilda's waist, and instead, took her delicate hand in both of his. "And maybe by tomorrow," he whispered, "I'll have let you know."

Alarmed by his abrupt change in moon, Hilda's mirrored him. "Ravi—?"

But she couldn't finish her statement. She was instead caught off guard by the feeling of Ravio's grip around her hands tighten a little more, then a little more, and a little more—until she soon found herself behind held tighter than she'd ever been. Were it any other person, she'd have scolded them in a heartbeat, but in this case, she never wanted him to let go instead.

"Princess Hilda," he finally said. It took every fiber of his being not to wrap his arms around her right then and forget everything else in the world. "My dearest, _beloved_  princess…"

Hilda could say nothing. Suddenly, she felt Ravio shaking a bit. Her expression weakened. She could not read him, seeing only see his cloaked face and nothing more. Though, just then—she was nearly torn apart. From under his hood, and sliding along his jawline—a single tear fell. She prayed to the goddesses he'd crack a smile, that this attitude was a joke—but she did not get such relief.

With his last words, he abruptly let go of her hands. Hilda watched as he ran off towards the entrance he'd come from, Sheerow once again at his side. The princess could only stand there, dumbfounded, alone—and  _hoping_  she was confused. Ravio's last words rang over and over again in her mind—though they'd truly yet to hit her. Three words so simple, yet she couldn't truly hear them.

"I'm sorry."


	14. Hilda and Her Hero

Hilda and Her Hero

"Ravio!" called Hilda, now trotting across the ballroom floor. Bumping into her subjects left and right, the princess received many ill glances—though she could not bring herself to care. At the moment, her image had all but faded away. "Please! Ravio—wait!" She could not catch him. The sight of vibrant fuchsia bunny ears had all but faded from her vision now.

Reaching the elegant arch way he'd passed through just moments before, Hilda had every intention of following him as far as he'd very much to her disdain, she was stopped, just as she was at the exit. An elderly man, her father's right hand, soon approached her. He bowed, catching her attention. "Pardon, Your Grace. Your father was calling for you."

Nearly shoving the man out of the way, she said, "It has to wait!"

"He said it was urgent, Princess Hilda."

"I don't care!" she shouted.

Realizing her agenda, he bowed once more. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but he said it was in regards to the boy with rabbit ears."

At that, he caught Hilda's attention. What—did her father know something she did not? Quick to pivot on her heel, she practically ran back to her father's side. "Father," said Hilda sternly, "what's going on?"

The king shook his head. "I do not know. I could not tell you the reason Ravio just left," he said sadly, "but his bird brought this to me moments ago." He motioned to an object on the table beside him. Around it were all kinds of formal gifts from their subjects—but this one particular article was all she could see.

It was a thick book, teal in color, baring a familiar symbol—purple rabbit ears. On the front it read "Ravio", in yellow lettering, and attached was a small note, "For Princess Hilda". She could've sworn she'd seen this object before. It was on Ravio's desk, time and time again. He's said it was nothing she'd care for—just a book of his sales income. Why would he give her that?

Slowly, Hilda took the book in hand. It was heavy, she could not even guess how many pages it held. She flipped it open, to the first page. It was dated far back, a few years. There were no numbers or statistics, instead, there were only words. It was a journal? She flipped through a few pages—and on every single one, not a word was written more than her own name.

* * *

> Princess Hilda was upset this afternoon. I asked her if she'd perhaps like to go on a walk, sadly, she declined me. I do hope she'll feel better tomorrow.
> 
> ***
> 
> I brought my princess a single, tiny flower this afternoon. It was the only one I could keep alive. I was happy to hear she like it—she said it was beautiful. Though I could not see it in the same light as her, I think. Her beauty out-shines anything in the world.
> 
> ***
> 
> Princess Hilda has been very sick for three weeks now. I visit her as often as I am allowed. I cannot sleep at night knowing how much pain she must be in. I pray to the goddesses, as much as she detests them, that she'll have a full recovery soon.

* * *

Hilda flipped through the pages at the speed of light. She was so confused. Why would he give her this? Just then, she stopped on one very certain page. It had three entries entitled "3 Days to Go", "2 Days to Go", and "1 Day to Go". She felt a very sharp pain in her heart. She did not need confirmation to know what these three entires were about.

* * *

> I may never see her again, but I vow to save her from all this.

* * *

The ink was smudged with tear drops. Undoubtably, his own. She dared to flip the pages more.

* * *

> I wish I was the hero she needs. But I am myself, and nothing more.
> 
> If only my hair were a shade of blonde and my tunic green. If only he would have stayed. Perhaps he could have saved myself, and more importantly her. Perhaps my princesses affections would have soon found their way to him. I cannot think of anyone more suited to forever be at my princess's side than Link.

* * *

She could not read on. How could Ravio ever think something like that? She did not want to read more of such toxic words. She dared to flip to the last page; the final entry.

* * *

> I have made up my mind. Tonight is the night of the ball. I will bid her goodbye, but I cannot allow myself anything more. Perhaps this is why I was chosen as Lorule's hero. Whatever the case, I will not let her down this time. This is the only way I can make right of what I've wronged. For the kingdom of Lorule, and, for more than anything else, her.
> 
> I hope these words will reach her in spite of my agenda. Perhaps, in another life, they'll loom in the back of her mind. Please, dear goddesses. Please let her know.
> 
> She is still my dearest friend, and, in spite of everything, I'd like to think she sees the same in me. She is the strongest, bravest person I have ever met, even more-so than Link. She deserves happiness, and she will get it. For now and forever—across space and time, my loyalty is forever hers. Though my truest feelings have long surpassed loyalty. Even if my actions may lead her to believe otherwise, there is not a single person in the world whom I care more about. She is my princess, my world, my hero.

* * *

Hilda dropped the book to the floor. Despite her father's protesting, she could no longer hear him. She once again raced out the room, this time, stopping for nothing. She knew exactly where he'd gone, and where she was now running to. "Please, goddesses," she thought, "let me get there in time." But now, she could not even hear her own thoughts. Only one voice echoed in her mind—it was his—voicing those last few words on the page.

* * *

> My dearest Hilda,
> 
> I love you.

* * *

Elsewhere, hidden deep in the castle—Ravio found himself in a the most holy of places. The Sacred Realm.

He had made sure Hilda did not follow him—if anything, she'd probably left the castle, should she have decided to pursue him. He was slow and silent to walk past the broken pillars and wreckage of this beautiful place—perhaps, really taking in that beauty for the first time. He stopped though, hearing a weak little peep. Ravio glaced over his shoulder—seeing Sheerow flapping in place. He was sad. With a weak smile, Ravio set down his bag, and took a step back. He cradled Sheerow in his hands. Ravio did not need to ask, to know why the little bird was sad.

"I know," he told his feathered friend, petting him gently. "I'll miss her too." Sheerow squeaked in reply, as Ravio asked, "But you understand why I have to do this right." Affirmatively, the bird nodded in reply. At that, Ravio cradled him a bit closer, rubbing she cheek softly against Sheerow's head. "Don't worry," Ravio said softly. "You and I will still have each other." Again, Sheerow squeaked, nuzzling his owner back. After standing there for a few more moments of comfort, he let go of the white creature he held. Sheerow faithfully went back to his side.

Finally, he gazed up at the golden power that lay before him. He wanted to detest it for all the pain it had caused him in its disappearance, and since it had returned. But quite on the contrary, he could only smile, knowing how happy it'd made Hilda.

But that smile was soon to fall, as he took a single step forward. Slow, scared, wanting to do anything but what he was planning—he reached forward. While it wasn't the first time, he could hardly believe he was so close, that he was here, that he was doing this. In his eyes reflected its golden beauty, he was lost for a moment, then suddenly hearing a voice echoing in the air.

"Stop!"

Ravio had never wanted so much to hear that voice—and at the same time, he prayed he never would again. He did not need to look back to know whom it had belonged to: Princess Hilda. Regardless, as if he had no other choice but to listen, he stopped in his path. It was silent for a few moments before she spoke once again. "P-please," she said softly, "Don't do this, Ravio."

His hand twitched, this made things suddenly ten times harder. "I must, Your Grace," he finally told her. His voice was quiet, shaky.

"Please," said a voice other than her own—but such words rang only in her mind. It was not the first time this had happened either. "Please, do something. Stop this somehow."

Hilda gritted her teeth. Unable to bare that voice any longer, she shouted, "You don't want this, I know you don—!"

Despite his hearts agreement, he cut her off, "Please, Your Highness!" Hilda was taken back a bit as Ravio turned around. She could not bare the look of desolation on his face. "Y-you've given me the gift of the Triforce," he said, nothing less than pleading. "Please… let me use it now."

His voice sounded so desperate. It was after a moment, but Hilda finally replied. "I… I understand," she whispered. She did not want to cause him anymore pain. She did not tell him to stop, no, but instead, she asked, "May I just know… what is it your actually wishing for?"

Ravio's eyes widened. He looked away, unwanting to answer… but he'd sooner die than disrespect his princess. Even now. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He answered her.

"I shall wish for Lorule to have a more suitable holder of Triforce shard of courage. Someone suited to be at your side." He closed his eyes. "It shall be myself no more."

Hilda was stunned. "What?" said the princess after a moment. Violently, Hilda was quick to protest. "But if you're not the one who bares the Triforce, who's to say we'd have met at all!" she asked furiously, finding it hard to question any other alternatives it might've caused. "What if… what if you only heard my voice that day years ago, because we were fated to meet like this?"

His own words wounded him, yet he voiced them regardless. Perhaps it would dull her pain. "In the end," he said softly, "maybe that's for the better as well."

Hilda's eyes widened. He had to have been just saying that. "That's what you most desire?!" she shouted, to which he was silent. Perhaps, in a sense, it was.

Suddenly remembering what exactly his greatest desire really was—he could do nothing more than smile. "My wish—my greatest wish, Your Grace…" he paused, putting a hand over his heart, "is, and always has been, to put your heart at ease." If this was the way to achieve that, he was more than ready to do so. "You will have your happiness, and your hero. I promise you, Princess Hilda."

His words caught her off guard. Even now, he was still Ravio. Always thinking of her—but never of himself. "B-but… what about you?" she asked quietly, her voice cracking. "What will happen to you, if you no longer have the Triforce?"

He looked at his feet, that very same question looming in his mind. "I don't know," he finally replied, "but I'm going to take that chance for you." Giving her one last smile—beautiful and bright, he turned around. Hilda's eyes went wide, tears now gathering in them. "I'm sorry, Your Grace," he said, reaching his hand out once again. He slammed his eyes shut—rejecting the very sight.

" _This is for the good of everyon_ —"

But he was once more stopped in his tracks—and this time, not merely by her voice. Ravio let out a light gasp, feeling Hilda's delicate figure against his back, and her arms around his torso. With his fingertips maybe a centimeter from the Triforce, he could not move an inch.

"Even if another held the Triforce, no one is more suited to be at my side," her desparate voice whispered. "I don't care about the mark on your hand. That is not the reason I've always kept you so close. That's not the reason I won't let you do this."

With her arms still around him, she gripped the fabric of his cloak in her palms. Taking a deep breath, she finally acknowledged the harsh truth. "You are not a hero," Hilda said, "but without you, I would be no more. Our world would be not be complete without you," she paused,  _"My_ world would not be complete without you. You are  _my_  hero, if only mine alone."

"Your… Grace," Ravio said inaudibly, unable to truly produce a sound. Regardless, Hilda did not cease.

"Time and time again, Ravio, you've always shown me what's right. I… I, too, feel unworthy of the Triforce. I am not wise—but, when I'm with you, those worries are all but nonexistent—for I know  _you_ will always have the answer." There was a long pause between them. Hilda tightened her grip. "Without you, I am a fool, Ravio. You have saved me. You are…  _You are_ ," she whispered, heart pounding a mile a minute. " _You are my wisdom_ ," she finally said.

Burning with her ardent feelings, she could not contain her final words—for they were what she'd been wanting to tell him from the moment she realized it to be true—and perhaps, even long before that.

"Ravio, I love you."

To which his heart skipped a beat, he let out an inaudible gasp. His chest felt tight, his cheeks turned pink. He could only stand there, having unexpected those words to come from her lips, least of all.

Hilda loved him, too.

Hilda was soon overwhelmed by the feeling of his right palm placed lightly over hers. At such a sensation, Hilda gave him the slightest glance, daring to open her crimson eyes. She prayed for her words to have reached him, she prayed for him to speak. And the goddesses, listening to those prayers—were soon to answer her.

"And I, you."

Hilda's eyes went wide, she caught her breath. By his words, yes—but more-so, by the shocking sight she saw as he turned to face her. Again, Ravio took her right hand in his. There was a glimmering light that emitted from both of their marks.

Suddenly and finally, everything in the world made sense.

The top-right shard of Hilda's radiated, in comparison to Ravio's—the top-left. Exactly the opposite, of what they'd assumed till this point. Hilda held the Triforce of Courage, and Ravio held the Triforce of Wisdom.

With his free hand, Ravio reached over, brushing away the many, now joyous tears from her eyes. She smiled back at him, softly, ardently—her cheeks lit with the color of adoration.

"You, Princess Hilda, are my courage," said Ravio.

"Ravio," she said, her voice cracking once again. Sniffling, huffing, feeling like anything but her regal self—Hilda could not contain herself anymore. "Ravio!" She threw her arms around his neck, embracing him in a tight hug. Surprised, he caught her of course—but did not expect the sensation of Hilda twirling herself and him around. It wasn't a moment before she found herself laughing—a sound that was nothing less than music to Ravio's pointed ears. He was, perhaps, most caught off guard—as he soon heard his Princess singing a very familiar tune.

"Maybe by tomorrow, the sun is gonna glow! Maybe by tomorrow, not gonna stub my toe! Maybe by tomorrow, the sun is gonna—ah!" she could not finish before Ravio soon lost his footing. Both fell to the ground in a dizzy heap. Lucky for Hilda, the purple clad bunny rabbit cushioned her fall. Still, she did not stop laughing.

Not bothered in the slightest by his less-than-comfortable landing, he embraced his princess even yet. Perhaps happier than anyone in the world that minute (beside the giggling sovereign he held,) he said, "W-wow, Princess Hilda!" He gazed at the top of her violet head and she huffed, "I've never heard you laugh so much!"

"I-I'm," she said, ceasing in her incessant giggling. She raised her head. Rubbing what ever tears that remained in her eyes, as she was still toppled over him—Hilda finally sat up—as did he. But before she could finish her thought—Sheerow was sporadic to make his presence known. Just as joyous in this occasion—he flapped and squawked between them. The princess laughed once more. She reached over to him, taking the bird in her hands. She kissed Sheerow's soft head. The tiny bird peeped happily, as if to say, "thank you." After a moment, she looked back to Ravio.

"I'm happy," she finally said, releasing Sheerow from her hold. As if Ravio was all she could see now, his image reflected in her beautiful crimson eyes. She put a hand over her heart. _"I'm so happy_."

His face lit up. He smiled brighter than perhaps Hilda had ever seen. And that was saying something. "Then," he finally replied, blushing ardently, "it looks like I won't need the Triforce for my wish, after all." Smiling yet, Hilda put her hand to his face.

"Then… you'll always stay by my side?" she asked, perhaps a tad shy, but entirely sincere.

Placing his hand over hers, he nodded. "Till the end of my days, Your Grace."

Her eyes watered once more. She embraced him, only pulling away after a moment to voice three, very invaluable words. Perhaps she'd already told him once, but she wanted to tell him a million times more—and undoubtably would, for the rest of their lives.

"I love you, Ravio."

And gazing back at his princess, Ravio's reply came naturally. At that moment, both the Princess Hilda Lorule, and Ravio the Bunny Rabbit leaned towards one another—her lips brushed lightly against his.

"I love you, too, Hilda."


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry it's taken so long to upload this entire story, but we're finally finished! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Epilogue

The two of them stood next to one another—pleasantly strolling along the stone bridge that led from Hilda's study to Lorule's Throne Room. It was a quiet day, an enjoyable day, nothing was out of the ordinary. Like many times before, they were there together—with only the other and Sheerow as their company.

"I can't wait to see your plans put into action," Hilda said, sound nothing less than impressed and truly excited. "Setting up shops all around Lorule—working in collaboration with the Master Smith! It'll be wonderful."

Ravio grinned bright and wide, happy to hear she approved so well of his ideas for the future. "You really think so?" he asked.

Hilda nodded, sure to add, "I hardly expected you'd do something of that caliber with the proceeds you made in Hyrule."

Ravio couldn't help but laugh, of course. "Well, considering my main customer," the person who's money he'd taken, that is, "I think that's what he'd want most anyway!"

"You're probably right about that," Hilda said agreeably, smiling somewhat slyly. She'd since heard all about Ravio's adventure in Hyrule, and the fortune he'd made while there.

Ravio, nodding, agreed cheerfully. "Well, you know! Since Mr. Hero's always lookin' out for other people, I figured, it's time I step up and do the same!" He pointed his thumb to his chest. "What better way, right?"

"I'm sure he's  _very_  proud of you," said the princess graciously. "As am I."

"Thank you," Ravio smiled fondly. It was after a moment, but he appeared to zone out with that same expression on his face. "I'd like to think so, too," he said, however softly this time. The boy looked down at the garb he adorned, seeming joyous—rather unlike his first time wearing this same outfit. Hilda knew exactly why.

Ravio wore the fuchsia tunic that the Blacksmith's wife had sewn for him. The hat was altered, however; it was still pointed, but also adorned bunny ears and eyes—much like the hood he'd worn for all his life. Around his waist was his Rupee belt, and covering his neck was his signature striped scarf. It was just enough to remind himself of Link, but also enough for him to feel like the person he'd always been. Really, Ravio wouldn't have preferred it any other way—and Hilda, gazing over him too, found herself smiling. It was quite ardently in contrast.  _She_ wouldn't have preferred it any other way.

"You know," the princess eventually said, "that look really does suit you."

"Ah," Ravio perked up, shyly rubbing the back of his head. Graciously, he replied, "Why, thank you, Your Highness!"

To his statement, and without missing a beat, Hilda was light to bop her staff against his head. It hardly hurt, though he replied with a small "ow." Pouting a bit, the princess said, "I told you not to call me that anymore."

"A-Ah," he muttered, yet timid—feeling his heart beat the slightest bit faster. "Right," he paused, blushing to conclude, "…Hilda."

Hearing his compliance with only her name, Hilda seemed the slightest bit more cheerful. "I like that much better."

Happy as well, he gave a shy, though very charming smile. "As do I."

There was an air of shyness between them, one they were yet unfamiliar with. While joyous, the two youths were timid. They both gazed away at that moment. It'd been only a few weeks since that night where their truest feelings were brought to light. Needless to say, they were anything but used to such attention from the other. Both Ravio and Hilda were shy to speak at all, though somehow comfortable none-the-less. Eventually, simultaneously—the two both spoke up in unison.

"I, uhm—"

"You kno—"

"Ah," Ravio said quickly, as they both cut themselves off. Shyly, he covered his lips. Tilting his to the head, he asked, "What is it?"

"O-oh, nothing," said Hilda suddenly, waving her hand, smiling weakly. Once again, the duo fell silent. Hilda fiddled with a strand of her dark indigo hair; Ravio extended his pointer finger for Sheerow to perch on. They again looked off into the distance, watching Lorule's setting sun.

"It's… so strange, isn't it?" Hilda finally spoke softly, changing the subject. Gazing out at her land, nothing less than amazed, she added, "It's strange to think about what the world was like just a few  _months_  ago. So much has changed."

Ravio chuckled slightly, petting Sheerow with his free hand. "It has," said the boy, "If I could go back a year and tell myself what my life is like now—I don't think I'd believe me!" he giggled.

"I'm sure the same could be said for me," Hilda responded agreeably, laughing lightly as well. Perhaps without regard, Hilda wasn't shy to specifiy her meaning, "I'd never believe anyone if they told me… I was to end up with _you_ , of all people."

To which Ravio instantly let out a single laugh, blushing a bit—wearing a weak smile. "Tell me about it," he said, almost in defeat. Hilda only giggled. Taking her comment in stride however, he just looked over to the girl at his side. "You know, thinking about it… I wonder what our lives will be like a few months  _from_  now?" Given all that already had transpired, he said, "Anything could happen."

"Undoubtably," she said. Pausing, the princess put her hand to her heart for a moment. "Only our dear Goddesses know what's on the horizon." Lightly, she let her hand rest at her side once more. Despite everything, Hilda could not rid herself of an anxious tone.

Ravio just looked down at the white creature perched in his hands. "Yeah," he agreed quietly, again letting Sheerow fly to his side. Also shy, he then paused for a moment. "But, you know," he eventually said, "there is one thing, that'll never change." With a sheepish smile, and however out of his comfort zone—Ravio shifted his hand in the slightest. He took Hilda's dainty palm in his. "Ever."

Ravio didn't need to specify his meaning, for Hilda to understand exactly what he was talking about. Returning the gesture, Hilda gripped his hand lightly in return. Again, neither looked at the other. "Right," she said quietly. "That will never change."

Ravio was adamant to reassure her, "Whatever happens, I know we'll make the best of it."

"You're right," Hilda was agreeable. Standing tall and sure, she said, "We'll make the best of this chance that Link and Zelda have given us. We owe them… everything," the princess said, thinking immensely on what 'everything' was. It included not only the beautiful land before them, but also the very hand she held in hers. Truly, Hilda had never felt more thankful than she did in that moment.

With a fond, nostalgic expression—Ravio said, "Yeah." Looking forward, off to the setting sun, Ravio paused. Even though Link was long since gone, he still owed him more than he could say. It was after a moment, but Ravio then gave a firm and adamant nod. Hilda gazed at him curiously. "With you at my side… I'll be like Link," he declared, putting a hand to his heart, "I'll be  _brave._ " It was the first time such a statement had ever come from his own lips, he had no doubt it was entirely true as well.

With Hilda—if  _only_  then—he would be brave, even though he did not need to be.

Hilda almost didn't believe her ears, of course. But soon, she complied, looking to him with eyes of amazement. The princess nodded happily, "And I'll be like her! I'll be… like Princess Zelda," she smiled, closing her eyes, basking in the beautiful memories of the people she held dear. "I  _will_  be wise."

Shifting the slightest bit closer to her company, Hilda couldn't resist cuddling against the person who made her so happy. However timid—the princess rested her head against his shoulder. Ravio cheeks lit in ardency, though he didn't think twice before sheepishly wrapping his arm around her as well. Joyous, in love, and with eyes full of wonder yet—Hilda whispered, "I can do anything, with you at my side."

Ravio smiled affectionately, adored with his most precious person, just as he'd always been. "We'll make them proud, Hilda," he finally said. Sharing in her joy, Ravio nuzzled his cheek gently to the top of her head. Thankful for not only his other half, but the Princess of Hyrule—and the very princess he held, Ravio concluded, "We'll do it together."


End file.
